What Lies Ahead
by DC Luder
Summary: Fourth in the Series of Three storyline. Set one month after the conclusion of One And Only, Tim adapts to the mantle of the Bat, Bruce learns to accept his new life and the Family welcomes a new member and must bid farewell to another...
1. What Lies Ahead: I

Title: What Lies Ahead: I

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: The Family stands by as Bruce undergoes surgery.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: The medical info for this chapter was blessedly provided by Dr. Todd. The "Where's the Any Key?" comment is from the Simpsons.

^V^

"No matter what you've done for yourself or for humanity, if you can't look back on having given love and attention to your own family, what have you really accomplished?"

Elbert Hubbard

^V^

The very second the alarm sounded at six-thirty, I was ready and waiting to slap the snooze button. I let out a long yawn as I stretched out to take up most of the empty bed. Bruce had slipped out not twenty minutes earlier, doing his best not to wake me. I had to give him credit for gently untangling my arms from around him, sliding out from under the covers and making his way across the room in near complete darkness. He even shut the door before turning on the bathroom light.

Had I been truly asleep, I wouldn't have had the slightest clue he had left.

At six-forty, I heard the shower shut off and decided to get moving myself. After rising out of bed, I made my way towards Mattie's room. Despite the fact that we had actually made it to bed at a reasonable hour, I felt exhausted. I could recall waking a dozen times through the night, looking at the clock to see some ungodly hour before looking over to see Bruce sound asleep. And to think not three weeks earlier I was the one snoring while he stayed up all night…

Mattie was still in bed, the smile on her face telling me that she was awake but pretending to sleep. I sat next to her and set my hand on her shoulder, watching as she struggled to keep still. After I leaned over, I kissed her cheek softly as my hand moved up to tickle her neck.

"Stop, Mom, that tickles…" she sat up and leaned against her pillows, "Is Dad up yet?"

I nodded, "He's getting dressed… and so should you." As I got up and headed for the door, I reminded her, "Make sure you bring your backpack downstairs."

She rolled off of her bed, "Kay."

The surgery had originally been scheduled for a Saturday but had unexpectedly been pushed back to the following Monday. Thus, Mattie was missing school for the day. We had packed her bag the night before with reading and coloring books, CDs, puzzles and a small pillow and blanket. She had adamantly declared she wasn't going to sleep at all until her father was awake and well but I was certain the sheer boredom of waiting in his room would eventually win.

Bruce was at the bathroom counter when I returned, a forest green towel wrapped around his waist. He looked over at me and smirked slightly, "Morning."

"Good morning," I said before kissing his cheek. As a second thought, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips, smiling as I felt the shock wash over him. He stepped forward, pushing me against the sink before his arms snaked around my waist. I accidentally grazed his lower leg with mine and laughed out loud, breaking the kiss.

"What?" he asked genuinely confused.

"I forgot…" I managed through the giggles, "I forgot you had to shave your legs for the..." I pulled at the towel to reveal part of a smooth thigh before he smacked at my hand.

"Very funny," he growled, "Is Mattie up?"

"Yeah, I just checked on her," I answered as I moved away from him and towards the shower.

"We should leave in fifteen minutes."

I looked at his reflection in the mirror, "Thirty," I countered as I dropped my pajama bottoms.

His brow twitched as he lathered his jaw line, "Eighteen."

I removed my pajama top and threw it at him, "Thirty, Bruce."

He looked at my reflection and smirked, "Thirty it is."

By the time I had showered and dressed, he and Mattie had already headed downstairs for breakfast. Bruce had been on a strict fast since midnight and had been off of his daily aspirin for nearly a week, both on doctor's orders. It was amazing that even in seven days how much the pain had escalated from simply being a few stiff steps first thing in the morning to taking nearly five minutes to walk out of it. He was a master at controlling his own body but even he couldn't hide his inflexibility under that much pressure.

When I found them in the nook, Mattie was working on a plate of scrambled eggs, sliced apricot and toast while Bruce read the newspaper. I took a seat in the chair that was between them as Alfred appeared with a cup of coffee. I begged off breakfast even though I knew it would be last chance for a real meal for a while. With Bruce being hospitalized for at least three days after the surgery, I was already dreading living off of takeout food.

As soon as Mattie was done eating, I took her plate and silverware into the kitchen and quickly washed them before Alfred could even begin to protest. Trying to keep the upper hand, he announced that he was going to ready the car and would be waiting out front. Before he exited through the service entrance door, I suggested he bring out the Lincoln because that was the one Bruce had put our bags in the night before.

The drive from Bristol to the orthopedic practice that Dr. Reynolds worked out of took nearly fifty-minutes in the early commuter traffic. Bruce and I sat in the backseat with Mattie between us. He alternated between looking out the window to glancing over at me and down at his daughter. I reached behind Mattie and set my hand on his shoulder, smiling when his eyes locked with mine.

The in-patient parking area was situated in a small lot to the left of the four-story building that Bruce would call home for the next few days. Barbara had researched the place inside and out and had found nothing but solid patient recommendations and perfect staff histories. And since it had been Leslie who had recommended the facility in the first place, I was pretty sure we had made the right choice.

Dr. Reynolds was a quiet, tall man with thinning gray hair that contradicted his fit physique. His office walls housed numerous plaques declaring him the winner of marathons up and down the east coast. Although he was four years Bruce's junior, he had already undergone a left knee replacement and performed single and double joint replacements by the hundreds every year. The expertise had been one of the benefits of going to a private practice. That and we could avoid the press sneaking into the public atmosphere of a hospital and snapping off shots of a bed-ridden Bruce.

Arriving that early in the morning left plenty of empty spaces and Alfred pulled into the closest one next to the entrance. On the other side of the building was the employee lot and I counted nearly a dozen vehicles, ranging from BMW's to mini-vans. As I stepped out, I held the door for Mattie but wasn't surprised to see that she had gotten out on Bruce's side, her hand clamped onto his. As Alfred walked towards the opened trunk door, Bruce moved in and grabbed the overnight bag that had our clothes in it. I half-expected Alfred to shut the trunk door on Bruce's hand just to get him to let go of it.

Although the surgery was scheduled for half past nine, Bruce had told the others that it wasn't until ten, hoping to sway them from showing up too early. When I had found out about his lie, I had promptly called everyone and told them to be there at nine sharp. Bruce was upset with me for a total of thirty minutes, complaining that he didn't want too many people around when things went underway. Naturally, he didn't want to make a big deal out of the fact that he was undergoing massive orthopedic surgery.

The lobby housed a small refreshment area and lounge as well as the in-patient registration desk. Alfred, Mattie and I stayed back a bit while Bruce went about the formalities of signing in. It was freakishly like a hotel, but instead of wake-up calls, they had an anesthesiology service. Thinking this, I could barely keep myself from laughing when the receptionist said for Bruce to head up to the third floor and to enjoy his stay.

"What's so funny?" Bruce asked as we walked into the elevator.

"Nothing, my love," I replied while checking my watch.

The elevator doors opened up to the third floor waiting area. Standing at the receptionist desk was none other than Dr. Reynolds, chatting with what appeared to be his younger protégé. The young intern that the orthopedic surgeon had mentioned at our last visit would be sitting in to observe the surgery. Bruce's brow had twitched at that and Reynolds had promised that he would be the only one hacking and sawing on Bruce.

Dr. Reynolds looked up as we approached and smiled while he closed the distance, "Bruce, Selina. And this young lady must be Mattie." He paused and crouched to her height; "Your Mom and Dad have told me a lot about you."

Never being the shy one, Mattie didn't hesitate to ask, "You're my Dad's doctor?"

"Yes I am."

"And you're going to make him feel better, right?"

"You bet. After this surgery your dad will be feeling a whole lot better. Are you going to stay here with your mom?"

Mattie nodded, "Yep. Do you have a TV?"

"In the waiting room and there will be one in your dad's room."

"Good, because he likes to watch the news. And I like to watch cartoons."

Dr. Reynolds stood, still smiling, "Who doesn't?" then he looked at Bruce, "Well, if you're ready, we can get you set up so when Dr. Pierde arrives we can get started… Teri, can you show Mr. Wayne to his room, please, and let's get him started on a saline IV. I'll be over in just a few."

Teri was a pink smocked woman who had been reading a chart at the desk. She signed off on something, set it in a tray and then walked over with a pleasant smile on her face. She led us to a comfortable recovery room that had a large window overlooking the courtyard across the street. It looked to be furnished in expectance of the many guests that would no doubt drop by in the next few days. I spotted the bed for Bruce, three padded chairs on the near side of the bed, four folding chairs in the narrow closet space in addition two collapsible cots with clean bedding on one of the shelves.

Mattie, backpack in tow, skipped around the room as she investigated. Teri said she would be back in ten minutes to set up his IV. Before leaving, she selected a blue hospital gown from the closet and set it out on the edge of the bed.

"I want to wear one too," Mattie said as she picked up the material.

Before Bruce could say anything, his cell phone chirped from his pocket. He answered, spoke quietly before handing it over to Alfred, "It's Leslie."

As Alfred stepped out into the hall with the phone, Bruce took the gown into the bathroom and changed while I unpacked our belongings. Mattie sat on the bed, swinging her legs slowly as she looked about the room.

"This is nice, isn't it?"

She took a while to respond, "Yeah… Mom, what's an IV?"

"It's a needle they'll put in Dad's arm, to give him medicine."

"Will it hurt him?"

I shook my head, "No, it will be a little prick, just like when you get a shot."

Bruce emerged a moment later, adjusting the flimsy gown as much as he could as it barely went to the middle of his thighs. Mattie looked over and laughed at him, "Dad that looks like a dress."

I smiled as well, thinking that it was almost as good as him wearing his old tights.

^V^

My sleep-depraved brain deciphered someone calling my name.

Then that same someone hitting me in the head with a pillow.

"Dick, it's almost eight-thirty."

"Ten more minutes, Alfred…"

A much harder swat with the pillow, "Excuse me?"

I sat up in bed suddenly and looked over to see Barbara, showered and dressed, sitting beside me, the offensive pillow clenched in her right hand. She threw the pillow at me again and surprisingly, I caught it before it made impact with my head. After rubbing my face in hopes to wipe away the fogginess, I slowly made it to my feet tossing the pillow towards the end of the bed.

"You have ten minutes. Then we're leaving without you."

"Leaving to go where?" I mumbled as I shuffled to the bathroom door.

Barbara asked, "Are you kidding?" When I looked over my shoulder and winked at her, she grabbed the pillow once more and threw it from across the room.

I showered and shaved in record time before changing into a worn pair of jeans and a wrinkled white button down shirt over a navy tee that declared I was "Bringing Sassy Back". Comfortable casual for a long day of sitting and waiting. With a minute to spare, I met Barbara and Cass at the front door with a grin on my face. The elevator ride down to the ground floor was filled with silence that I decided to break up with off-key humming.

When Barbara pinched my side, I decided that silence wasn't so bad.

The twenty-minute drive to the private clinic was a little rough with traffic, but with Barbara behind the wheel, we managed to pull into the parking lot just as the clock read five after nine. As I stepped out of the car and went to offer help for Barbara, I asked, "So when is Tim coming?"

"He said he would be here by quarter after," Cass answered, "Had an exam at eight."

Belongings in tow, we made our way to the lobby and approached the registration desk. I leaned against the counter and asked, "Excuse me, can you tell me what room my father is in?"

The headset wearing tween behind the desk smiled and replied. "Certainly. His name?"

"Bruce Wayne."

She paused for a moment before saying, "Mr. Wayne has given us a strict list of visitors. I'll have to know all of your names."

"Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon and Cassandra Cain. Tim Drake will be here shortly."

She scanned the computer screen before nodding and telling us he was in room three-ten. Interesting, I thought, She didn't ask for ID. Ought to tell Bruce, make him tighten this place up…

The elevator ride up to the third floor was a fraction of the ride down in the Clocktower. Down a wide hallway to the left of the waiting area, I spotted Alfred, Selina and Mattie standing outside of what I assumed was Bruce's room. When they saw us, each smiled slightly, but Mattie was the only one to offer a verbal greeting.

"Dick!" she giggled before trotting over.

I read the shocked look on her mother's face and crouched before her, "Shh, Mattie you can't yell and run here, okay? People need to get their rest so they can get better."

Mattie stopped in her tracks, "Like Dad?" she asked before she walked over to me.

"Exactly."

I picked her up and hugged her, her tiny arms wrapping around my neck. We closed the distance between the two groups, "So what are you, protesting?"

Selina opened her mouth to answer but Mattie beat her to it, "They're putting a catheter in so we had to come out here."

"Oh..." I replied while letting Mattie back to the floor. "When are they going to take him?"

I watched as Selina bit her lip before glancing at her watch, "The anesthesiologist will be here shortly. And then a few minutes after that."

I heard Cass from behind me, "What if Tim's late?"

I glanced over my shoulder at her with a slight smile, "Then he can be the first to say hello when Bruce wakes up."

After Bruce's door opened, a nurse and young woman in a short white coat stepped out. I let everyone file in before me. For some reason, my mind flashed back to that fateful night that he had been shot by Pasqualle and how a similar procession of people had walked by the recovery room at the Free Clinic. Although this time Bruce was lying in bed, awake and well, as I looked over at him all I could see was the comatose and bandaged body from seven years earlier.

Being the last one through, I closed the door behind me. I was surprised how even the number of people in the room did little to fill it. Mattie had already hopped onto the bed beside her father. With him going into surgery for most of the day, I wondered how well she would fair without being able to see him. Selina and Alfred had taken two of the chairs next to the bed and I expected Cass to make a move for the third but instead she stood to my right, shifting her gaze from the door to Bruce. Barbara remained at my left, but her eyes were on Bruce alone.

I was exhausted after a long night of patrols, I had yet to have breakfast let alone my morning coffee and there was an empty chair. Taking it instead of Cass meant an angry look from Alfred and probably a lecture later that day on how to be a proper gentleman. Not taking the chair and standing surely meant a pleased Alfred but my feet would never talk to me again.

Bruce gazed over his new visitors with a quiet look on his face. I had dropped by a few nights earlier to have dinner at the Manor and had stayed after to talk with him about the surgery as well as life in general. As we had sat on the ground floor terrace, I had done my best to keep from laughing as Bruce worked on glass of scotch while I had a glass of plain old apple cider.

"What's so funny?" he had asked after noticing my smirk.

"You," I had replied, finally letting out a slight laugh, "Golfing, dining out, finally making use of the liquor cabinet. You're turning into a regular old billionaire, Bruce."

"Watch it," he had growled. But even though he had put the glass to his lips, I had still spotted his lips twitch upwards.

I was just about to ask Cass if she intended on sitting down when there was a sudden knock on the door. Everyone turned their heads in time to see the same nurse that had just left carrying a small silver tray, but this time her partner was a tall, gray haired woman in a long white coat over dark blue scrubs.

She spoke with a soft accent of which I couldn't place right away, "Hello, I'm Dr. Pierde, I'll be your… Oh, my."

As she looked over the group that was assembled in the room, I finally placed it as being southern France. Thanks Bruce for making me listen to all of those tapes of European accents…

Before anyone could say anything, the nurse cleared her throat, "I'm afraid I'll have to ask those who aren't immediate family to leave…"

There was a moment of silence before Bruce sat up in bed and replied, "They are my immediate family."

Didn't expect that coming from him and when I glanced over at Barbara and the look on her face said that she was surprised as well.

"I see…" Pierde sighed quietly, "Well, that's fine but I hope no one is afraid of needles." She and the nurse walked between Cass and I and made their way to Bruce's bedside. Perhaps it was policy that the staff not piss off the patients before invasive surgery.

She introduced herself again to Bruce, shook hands and then added that she was the anesthesiologist. Mattie's eyes widened at the title and when she asked what that meant, Pierde offered a soft smile and an explanation, "My job is to help your dad go to sleep so he can have his surgery. That way, he won't feel anything."

"You have to give him a shot?" she asked, still sitting next to Bruce.

"One for right now. It will make him a little sleepy."

"Can I watch?" Mattie questioned, her eyes never leaving the tray.

Selina spoke, "Yes, but why don't you sit on my lap, Mattie."

When the child looked at Bruce for confirmation he nodded, "Go on, kitten, sit with Mom." A sigh and hop off of the bed later, Mattie was crawling up onto Selina's lap, her eyes glued to the tray in the nurse's hands.

Cass suddenly stepped towards the door. When I looked over at her she whispered, "Going to go wait for Tim."

"Okay."

After she slipped out of the room I heard Pierde's soft voice, "The medical history Dr. Reynolds took said that your system was a bit resistant to Valium so we're going to use a 4 milligram per milliliter solution of Lorazepam."

"Sounds good to me," Bruce replied, not an ounce of humor in his voice.

I watched as Pierde withdrew the clear liquid into a syringe and then tapped out a few tiny bubbles before inserting it into the IV catheter on Bruce's right hand. She withdrew it after depressing the plunger and then spoke as she capped the needle, "You should start to feel a bit drowsy shortly. Once the surgery suite is ready, we'll take you up… And if there aren't any last questions…?"

Bruce shook his head.

"Very well, we'll see you in few minutes." I stepped aside and watched as the nurse and

Pierde filed back out into the hallway. As the door closed behind them, the room became eerily silent.

I let out a yawn, "Should have asked her to hook me up with some of that." Of all the people to react, I was surprised to see Bruce smirk slightly. I smiled back at him, wondering if it was genuine humor or if the drugs were already kicking in.

Mattie slipped off of her mother's lap and proceeded to lean against the bed, "Are you scared, Dad?"

Bruce let his head turn to face her and reached slowly for her hand, "No. Are you?"

She shrugged, "Maybe."

He squeezed her tiny hand, "It's okay to be scared…"

Damn right it was okay to be scared. I never liked hospitals but the more I thought about it, Mattie had too many reasons to hate them. Being born at home, her first experience of the antiseptic smelling, bright-lit hell of a medical haven was when she was diagnosed with asthma as an infant. Then not much later, when Bruce and Selina were in the car accident. Add that to the respiratory therapy she had to undergo a few times every year, probably for the rest of her life…

A little too much for someone that young.

I just hoped that this was something that couldn't be added to her list of bad experiences.

Not five minutes later, Bruce's eyes began to droop slightly and not too long after, Dr. Reynolds and a pair of nurses arrived to take him up. I had decided the night before that I would go with Bruce and would wait outside the operating room until the procedure was done. Thinking this, I decided to step towards the door, letting everyone else have a quick moment with Bruce.

I watched as Alfred stood, rubbing his hands together in that way he often did when something was bothering him. He then approached the bed and rested one palm on Bruce's arm; spoke quietly before stepping back and standing beside the window. Barbara then moved closer, squeezed Bruce's hand and said, "Break a leg."

Bruce blinked slowly and managed a slight smile.

Selina stood, leaned over and kissed him on the lips. If it had been a different situation I might of cracked off a joke about the public display of affection. She gripped his hand as she stood upright and he did his best to squeeze back. Mattie kissed him as well and said she would be waiting right there for him to come back. He whispered something to her that made her giggle slightly.

I blamed it on my lack of sleep, but I couldn't help think back once more to when Mattie had been diagnosed with asthma. How despite everything else, Bruce had still made her feel safe with a few soft words and a touch of his hand.

Seemed like a lifetime ago, but the gesture still did wonders for my little sister.

^V^

After pouting for the first few minutes, Miss Mattie had unpacked a coloring book and began furiously filling in pages of outlined horse drawings. She declared that she was going to finish the entire book before her father returned. Pending any major disaster, this was to be the only day she missed school for, even though Master Bruce would be hospitalized for several days.

The night before, after the child had gone to bed, Ms. Selina and Master Bruce had been lounging in the den, talking about plans for the week, mostly those revolving around their daughter. From what I overheard, their major concern was getting her back home for a good night's sleep and to keep things as normal as possible in her schedule. And sleeping in Bruce's recovery room was not normal. I gracefully interrupted and offered to spend the night with her at the Manor and to arrange for transportation to and from school. Ms. Selina offered to come home at night as well, despite her voice lacking any conviction. I knew she had all intentions of staying with her husband until he returned home, so I had informed her it would be no trouble to watch over their daughter.

Not ten minutes after Master Dick accompanied Master Bruce and Dr. Reynolds to surgery, there was a slight knock at the door just before it opened. I had been looking out the window, watching as the city was coming to life and when I glanced towards the door, I saw Master Tim and Miss Cassandra enter.

As their eyes scanned the near empty room, Master Tim frowned, "I guess we missed him."

"You guessed correctly, sir," I commented.

I had actually been surprised that Master Tim made an appearance at all, simply because of his hectic schedule. Although he had only a handful of classes to take in order to complete his business degree, he had decided to forge ahead and work on a minor in information technology, thus requiring a semester beyond the one he was currently enrolled in.

Aside from his school activities, he had taken a part-time position at the First National Bank as a computer system consultant. He had said it was tedious work, but simple to do as long as those working at the bank didn't bother him too much. "I get about seventy-five percent of everything done within the first half-hour," he told me after his first day, "Then I got to spend some quality time playing Sims Online."

The most demanding burden of Master Tim's life had been his stepping up to take Master Bruce's place. It had been nearly a month since he had officially become the Dark Knight and already he had faced off with a serial rapist that had attacked nearly a dozen women at near random times and locations within the city. Unfortunately, while he had attempted to apprehend the perpetrator, a special task force of police officers was also making its move. The suspect was killed in a rain of bullets after he had opened fire with a nail gun on the officers. Those involved were awarded for their bravery and the families of the victims couldn't have been happier.

The Batman was infuriated.

He had consoled in me about his anger towards the new commissioner and how the police department was slowly changing. I wondered how much of it reflected his envy that the previous police commissioner and Batman had such a strong rapport while the current one had only used the Bat-signal once, and that was to ream him out. I reminded him that when Master Bruce had first started, and even years after, he faced constant pressure from the police department, including the faceoff in the Chelsea Hotel. He then smirked, saying how he would have much rather butted horns with Gordon than with Kelsey.

Despite the extra burdens from school and work, he and Miss Cassandra had surprisingly been able to find a great deal of time to spend with one another. I mused how Master Bruce had been adamant when he started out as Batman that he had no time for a social life. Master Dick said their work at night was still flawless, of which Master Bruce was impressed by. After all, there had been countless attractive heroines and even villains that had posed as a fatal distraction for him over the years. One, however, had posed as the biggest threat…

As for the original Batgirl and Robin, news of their impromptu engagement had spread like fire and by nightfall of the day of the picnic proposal, the word had not only ran through his the Family, but to the Justice League and the Teen Titans. No true plans had been arranged but Ms. Selina and Ms. Barbara had already met for lunch nearly a dozen times to start getting things in order.

"What time were the expecting the surgery to be done with?" Master Tim glanced at his wristwatch.

Ms. Selina looked over her shoulder as, "He'll be in surgery until two… and then in recovery until four-thirty, maybe even five o clock tonight."

The young man's brow creased slightly and before I could ask what was wrong, Miss Cassandra spoke up, "What?"

He sighed quietly; "I have class until three and then work until six-thirty… And then…" he paused when he looked over at Miss Mattie, who was lost in her coloring.

"He'll understand, Tim," Ms. Selina smiled, "Actually, with all the drugs he'll be on, I don't think he'll even notice if anyone is here, let alone if anyone is missing."

He bit his lower lip quickly before nodding, "You're right. Maybe I'll be able to drop by quick later tonight… I better get back to campus, have a tutoring orientation thing to go to. If I don't get to see him later, give him my best."

"Of course," Ms. Selina nodded.

He looked over at me briefly before turning towards Miss Cassandra, "I'll see you later."

"Bye," she smiled and watched him exit into the corridor.

Two weeks earlier, Master Bruce had offered the townhouse in Bryanttown to Master Tim, including an extended offer to have it renovated. And not a week after that, Ms. Barbara informed me that he had in turn offered Miss Cassandra the option of living with him. I had yet to speak with him on the subject, but I had my own ideas as to why he made such a bold move. First, with Master Dick and Ms. Barbara to be wed, it would be a chance for Miss Cassandra to get out on her own. Secondly, it would be nice to have company in his first year living in his own home. And last but certainly not least; it would enable them to strengthen their relationship, as it were.

After all the trials they had faced, individually and together, it was a well-deserved relationship at that.

Not long after Master Tim left, Miss Cassandra said she was going to get something from the bakery down the street and offered to get refreshments for all of us. I told her I was content for the time being and Ms. Selina said the same. Ms. Gordon, who had been skimming through a magazine, asked for a frappuccino. The crayon-bearing youngster, on the other hand, said she would love chocolate milk.

"Please," her mother reminded her.

Mattie looked up from her drawing, "Can I have chocolate milk, please, Cassie?"

The older girl nodded, "I'll be right back," and then slipped out the door.

I let a few moments of silence pass before approaching Ms. Selina, "If you wouldn't mind, I thought I might venture upstairs to speak with Master Dick."

"And to snoop around…" she interrupted, "That's all right. I'm sure us girls can entertain ourselves for the time being."

Just as I turned towards the door, Miss Mattie looked up once more from her coloring, "I want to go see Dad, too."

Her mother commented, "No, Alfred's just going upstairs to check on a few things. No one can see Dad until this afternoon."

The child fought frustration with a pout and then sighed reluctantly before returning to her artwork. I feared what a week of intermittent time with her father would do for her. The after-effects of the surgery and the heavy medication he would be under would impinge upon any time she would be able to spend with him. The last time she had been in such a situation, she had been an infant and had little practical recollection of him being laid up.

For which I was thankful for.

Opting for the elevator, I made my way up to the next floor, of which housed several surgical suites and the post-operative recovery rooms. My mind couldn't help but to drift towards my morning conversation with Leslie. She had all intentions of being there for Master Bruce's surgery, but a small fire had broken out at a local school and many of the injured students had been sent her way. I did my best to console her and to assure her that everything was under control.

Despite the dire purpose of the floor, it was decorated brightly, with off-white tiled floors, pastel accents and pleasant watercolors hanging on the walls. I suddenly wondered how the operating rooms were painted…

Master Dick was standing passed the nursing and reception desk, staring at the window that took up most of the wall. I approached quietly, glancing through as well. Opened Venetian blinds did little to conceal the happenings in the room. Master Bruce's form was draped with sterile blue sheets with his left leg wrapped in the same material aside from the knee area, of which was exposed and tinged orange from the betadine scrub. It had been propped up, keeping the knee bent at a ninety-degree angle.

They had not wasted any time in getting started, as Dr. Reynolds and his assistants had already made the necessary incisions around the knee capsule and had pulled back muscle and connective tissues as well as the patella. My eyes ventured to Master Bruce's face. They had intubated him in light of the length of the surgery and it was easy to spot the blue, ribbed tubing that was attached to an in-wall oxygen outlet.

Master Dick sighed, "I've had three nurses already offer me coffee, another two even said they would show me to the waiting area… I had to use my Bat-glare to scare them away."

"Perhaps they are not accustomed to those determined enough to stand for five hours, watching a loved one's surgery from start to finish."

"Perhaps."

We watched on in silence as the surgeon consulted the radiographs before he went about removing several bones spurs on the base of the femur and the remains of the destroyed meniscus with a rongeur, a large, scissor like tool. As an assistant prepared a large drill, Master Dick shook his head; "I watched this exact same surgery yesterday on the Learning Channel. Still doesn't make it any easier when they start pulling out the power tools."

As Dr. Reynolds pressed the drill bit against the center of the base of the femur, I nodded in agreement.

I stood beside him in silence for another hour, watching on as they reshaped the bones, drilled in holes for the prosthetic components. By then, I was absolutely certain that nothing short of a miracle would convince Master Dick to leave his post outside of his father's operating room.

And I was also certain that nothing short of a miracle that would convince me to leave my post outside of my son's operating room.

^V^

"Why don't we go out, get some lunch?"

I was reading in a chair I had dragged over to the window after Alfred had left earlier. When I looked up at Mom, I was just finishing the third chapter. It was a book I found in my parents room, The BFG by Roald Dahl. Dad said it was an important book to him but he said I could read it as long as I took good care of it.

We hadn't really eaten anything since breakfast aside from the box of fresh muffins and bagels that Cassie had brought back with her. And when lunchtime had come, no one had been really hungry. I looked at my wristwatch; one Leslie had given me for my birthday, and saw it was nearly two.

"Can't we eat here?" I asked, putting my bookmark in.

Barbara, who had been playing on the laptop she brought, said, "There's a nice little restaurant a few blocks from here."

Cass smirked from her seat near the door, "Soup of the day?"

"Broccoli and Cheddar," Barbara answered.

Mom stood and walked over to me, "What do you think, kiddo? Get some real food, maybe some ice cream?"

"But… Isn't Dad coming back soon?"

She knelt in front of me, "No, he'll be getting out of surgery soon, but he won't be coming back here, to his room, until later."

"Can we see him when he gets out? Of the surgery?"

"No, sweetie, he's going to stay upstairs so that Dr. Reynolds can make sure he's all better."

I didn't want to leave until Dad was back, until I could see him for myself. Mom and Dad had explained things to me a few times about how he wasn't going to be himself for a while. How he'll be a little sleepy and maybe even sick after the surgery and how he would have to use a walker to get around for a few weeks. I tried not to be scared but I couldn't help it. A friend at school said her uncle had stomach surgery and he had died. When I told my parents about it, they said the surgery Dad was having was much safer.

Even still…

Thinking that, I asked, "What if something happens? What if he's not all better?"

Mom smiled softly at me before setting a hand on my knee, "Mattie, Dad will fine. And besides, Dick and Alfred will be here and if anything did happen, they would call us. So, what do you say?" I was about to say I wasn't hungry, a lie but I wanted to stay. But before I could, my stomach growled. Mom laughed and tickled my stomach a bit, "I take that as a yes?"

I nodded.

Mom stood, "All right. I'm going to run up and see if I can get them anything to eat and then we can go."

I hopped off of the chair, my book still in my hand, "I want to go. Please?"

She looked down at me, and then over at Cass and Barbara, both of which shrugged at her. "All right."

"Yay!" I cried out before tackling her legs with a hug.

We took the elevator up to the next floor, of which looked pretty much just like the one where Dad's room was. There was a waiting area with couches and a desk with some people working at computers and two hallways that went in opposite directions. I was about to ask which way we should go when I heard Dick's voice from the left, "And what are you doing up here?"

I turned and almost ran towards him but then remembered what he said earlier, how it wasn't good to run around and be loud. Instead, I smiled and walked as fast as I could towards him and Alfred. He reached out and grabbed me, lifting me up into his arms.

I kissed his cheek, "We're going to get lunch. Mom and I came up to see if you want lunch too."

He nodded, "I could use some grub."

As Mom approached, she greeted Alfred by squeezing his hand and then reached over to touch Dick's shoulder. I turned my head to face her to tell her that Dick was hungry too when I noticed that the wall we were standing next to was actually a window. Through it, I saw people in blue smocks and gowns were walking around, carrying trays and tools. I looked to the center of the room, where a bed like Dad's was sitting with several lights and machines towards the top of it. A woman in purple smocks pulled back the blue sheet that was covering the bed to reveal Dad, laid out, his legs an odd orange color. There were bandages around his knees and small tubes sticking out.

Mom caught me looking and sighed.

Dick rubbed my back, "See, Mattie, they're all done. Now they're going to let him sleep for a while and later tonight he'll be back downstairs."

"Is that what they did to his legs? Made them orange?"

Dick smiled, "No, that's from the medicine they washed his legs with to make them clean. Kind of like super soap. It will wash off."

"Looks silly."

He nodded, "Yeah it does."

We stayed for a little bit longer, and I barely heard Mom asking Alfred and Dick what they wanted to eat. I was too busy watching as the people inside slowly left through a back door. Two of them pushed the bed Dad was on out the door while another followed, writing on a clipboard. I recognized him as Dr. Reynolds.

"All right, Mattie, let's get going."

"… Okay."

Dick set me down on the floor and squeezed my hand before letting go. In my other hand, I was still holding onto the book. I bit my lip before giving it to him. "What's this for?"

"Dad. It's his favorite. If you get to see him before we get back, can you give it to him?"

He looked at the cover and smiled, "Of course."

Mom and I left for the elevator and met Barbara and Cass at Dad's room before heading out. Since Alfred had the keys to the car we took from home, Barbara drove us to the restaurant in her car. It only took a few minutes to get there, but on the way, Barbara and Mom, who sat in the front, talked the entire time. I tried to listen but the radio was just loud enough that it mixed in with their words. I did hear Dad's name a few times though.

The restaurant was about half-full, which made sense since most people didn't eat lunch that late. We had a table near a window and I spent most of the time staring out it, thinking about looking through the window at Dad. Because I wasn't paying attention, Mom had ordered for me, so when the food arrived, I was surprised to see that I had a chicken Caesar pita and French fries.

I ate fairly slowly considering how hungry I was and listened to the others talking. The conversation pretty much revolved around Barbara and Dick's wedding. I was going to be the flower girl, just like I was at Mom and Dad's wedding. From the sounds of it, the wedding was going to be pretty much the same as my parents', even though I didn't really remember much from it.

From there, the talk turned to Tim and Cass's new house. I had been to Tim's apartment and thought it was cool how he had movie posters on the wall. I thought there was more than enough room there for them to live together but I guess a house to themselves would be better. A few days ago, I had gone with Dad to visit their new house and was confused because it didn't look like anything I would want to live in. On the outside it was pretty good, with brick walls and big windows, but on the inside it looked like it was ready to fall apart. Missing walls, dirt and dust everywhere and cracks in the ceilings. They were going to start renovating soon, which was good, because it was pretty bad.

Mom asked if I wanted dessert but after eating everything off of my plate, I wasn't really all that hungry.

Even for ice cream.

All I wanted was to get back as soon as we could, to sneak upstairs and to sit with Dad until he woke up. Then I could read to him and he could help me with the big words like he did at night when we read before going to sleep.

Then everything would be all right.

^V^

My assumptions throughout the entire day were off.

I had assumed that Bruce would still be in his room when I got there that morning. I assumed I didn't have an essay due in Business Research Methods and I assumed that I would be able to get out of work early.

There was a thirty-three minute gap between getting out of work and when I planned on working out before patrols that I assumed would be the perfect time to visit Bruce. Barbara, Dick and Cass would have left by then and surely Mattie would be exhausted and fast asleep on a cot or in a chair and Selina and Alfred would no doubt be sitting at his bedside, too tired and too worried to sleep. That's why when I walked into his room to see it filled with the people I had expected to be long gone, I couldn't help but think of my fifth grade teacher, Mr. Truman, and how many times he had lectured us on how assuming things made "an ass out of you and me!"

Jim Gordon had been the first to spot me, offering a slight smile and a handshake. I hadn't seen much of him in the last month, and that had only been as Tim Drake, not Batman.

With his attention towards me, Cass and Barbara looked as well. Cass stepped closer to me and asked how work was and when I rolled my eyes she laughed softly, "That bad?"

"Let's just say that I told the new teller to press any key to start the program, he asked 'Where's the Any Key?'."

I looked passed her to see Dick sitting next to Barbara and Selina sitting on the other side of him. Alfred was standing by the windows, the same spot he had been that morning, reviewing Bruce's medical chart. That left…

Mattie sat beside Bruce on the gurney, the top elevated slightly to put him in a near sitting position. She was showing him all of the drawings and pictures she had colored that day and from the look on his face, he was doing everything he could from falling asleep. He had an oxygen cannula under his nose and still had the IV in his hand. His eyelids were heavy and his breaths came slow and deep. I couldn't blame him, especially after spending most of the day under general anesthesia.

As Mattie showed him the last picture she had done, Bruce looked over her head and spotted me. He managed a slight nod and I smirked back.

I watched as he drew a long breath before asking, "What time is it?" his voice quiet and slow. With everyone's attention diverted, he winced as he shifted his leg slightly. He noticed me looking and I simply winked at him.

Mattie was the first to reply, "Seven."

"In the morning?" he asked.

She laughed, "No, at night, Dad."

He nodded, feigning innocence as she looked at his face, "Well, then it's time… for you to get going... have a bath… before bed."

"Can't I stay a little longer?"

He shook his head as Selina stood, "Mattie we talked about this earlier. We're going to go home and you're going to stay with Alfred so you can rest up for school tomorrow."

She pouted, something that made her seem even cuter than she already was, "But I want to stay with Dad."

He raised his hand and rubbed her back gently, of which seemed to take a great effort, "Kitten, you'll be back tomorrow… afternoon."

"I don't want to leave you, I want to stay, Dad, please?" her voice was faltering as the beginnings of tears welled in her eyes. She turned, wrapping her arms around his neck, her foot gently touching his thigh as she did so. He winced again, this time in plain sight.

Selina touched Mattie's back, "I know you want to stay. But tomorrow Dad will be feeling better. Right now he needs his rest. So do you."

I watched on as she hugged Bruce a bit more, before kissing his cheek and letting go of him. She had put on a brave front, biting her lower lip and wiping her eyes before her tears could fall. I suddenly wondered what it had been like all day, with her separated from even seeing Bruce, her imagination running wild…

"Say good night to everyone, Mattie," Selina said as she gathered her daughter's belongings and put them into her backpack.

The child offered half-hearted hugs and whispered words as she toured the room. After Selina gave her the backpack, Mattie searched it quickly before pulling out a paperback book. She then put it on the small table next the bed and told her father they could finish it the next day.

"Sounds good to me… Good night, kitten."

"Night, Dad."

Not a moment after Selina, Mattie and Alfred had left, Jim said he had to get back to take Frank for a walk. He moved over to Bruce, shook his hand and said he would drop by in the morning with coffee. Bruce smirked and reminded him to tell the nurses if they asked that it was decaf. As he made his way to the door, Jim kissed Barbara's cheek and then told the rest of us to be safe that night. Dick laughed slightly, "Where's the fun in that?"

With a chair emptied, I walked over and gratefully plopped down in it. Bruce cleared his throat and asked, "Long day?"

"I suppose. Nowhere near as fun as yours though."

"I would hope not," Barbara joked.

I leaned back in the chair and asked how everything had gone. Bruce shrugged slightly, "Good I guess. I get to try… walking tomorrow."

"They say how long you have to stay here?"

"At least three days… if not more. It depends on when I can pass the test."

"The test?" I asked.

Barbara nodded, "The rites of passage for knee replacements. He has to be able get in and out of bed, walk up and down the hall out there and go to the bathroom by himself."

Bruce sighed, "Even if I can do all of it… by tomorrow night, I still have to stay."

"Forced imprisonment… young nurses catering to your every need… sponge baths… How barbaric," Dick snickered.

Barbara slapped his arm, "Careful, or you'll be in a gurney too."

"Is that a threat or a promise, pumpkin?" he asked. She threw an icy glare in his direction and his shoulder slumped. And he said Bruce was whipped. Dick stood suddenly and said, "Well, we better get going. Long night of being safe ahead of me." He took a step towards Bruce's bed and shook his hand, "Don't let Selina keep you up too late."

A slight smirk formed on Bruce's lips.

Then another wince.

Cass and Barbara both wished him a good night; Cass touched his arm gently while Barbara had kissed his hand. When I remained seated, I said I would see them later.

Fifteen minutes and we were finally alone.

I broke the silence by pointing to a small machine attached to the IV stand, "Is that one of those Pain Control Units?"

He nodded, "Analgesic relief at the press of a button... Haven't tried it out yet."

"Tempted?"

He smirked again. For having undergone invasive orthopedic surgery all day, he was sure in a good mood. For having been retired from the life he cherished for a month he was in a good mood…

Although we hadn't seen much of each other lately, the time we spent with one another was less awkward than I would have imagined. For instance, when he had told me about the townhouse in Bryanttown, we had been sharing lunch in the breakfast nook at Wayne Manor, talking about the rape case I had just closed. There was a moment of silence before he asked how the satellite cave was working for me. I had said it was great, especially since most nights I couldn't get to the Cave without delaying patrols. He paused again, sipped his coffee, and then asked how I felt about having to deal with the distance between the location of the satellite cave and my home. Being truthful, I told him it added a bit of time to my night, having to go back and forth to change and handle logs, but that it wasn't too bad.

Another pause followed before he mentioned the townhouse.

I hadn't been too surprised, seeing how under one name or company, Bruce had a great deal of real estate throughout the city. The house was under the dummy name of Fletcher and Associates and hadn't held any residents for decades, long before he bought it. That afternoon, we went down to check it out and as he opened the front door, he had brought up that he would cover any renovations needed to the place. I had figured it would be dusty, maybe some carpets needed to be replaced. What I hadn't figured was that the place would be in shambles.

I had joked as we toured the empty two-story house that it was no wonder he didn't want the Wayne name on the place.

Bruce cleared his throat again, interrupting my thoughts. It had been the third time he had done so since I had arrived. "Want some water?" I offered.

"No, it's okay."

"Come on, least I can do is get you a cup of water." I stood and entered the surprisingly spacious bathroom, poured cool water from the tap into a plastic cup and then returned to his bedside. He took the cup from me slowly, his hand quivering just enough to make the water quake in the glass. "You all right?" I asked, doing my best to hide my concern.

He sipped the water, slowly emptying the cup. I took it from him as he replied, "Side effects from the anesthesia… It's been on and off all afternoon."

After setting the cup on the table beside us, I sat back down, "So three days in this place? Not too shabby. I was expecting a cell with bars on the windows to keep you in."

Bruce looked around the room, "It's nice. Better than a hospital."

"Was Selina coming back tonight? She said something about Alfred staying with Mattie."

He nodded, "We figured it would be best for Mattie to sleep at home… With the nurses coming and going through the night… she wouldn't be able to sleep well. That and she can get back to school tomorrow. Not that she wants to."

I watched as Bruce fought a yawn. I glanced at my watch to see it was almost quarter of eight. A few weeks ago, his night would just be getting started, not ending.

"How's the job going?" he asked suddenly.

We talked for a while and I stayed well past the thirty-three minutes I had intended. Selina walked through the door a little before nine and said, "Shh." I had been talking about the plans for the townhouse and paused mid-sentence to look at her. She pointed over to Bruce and when I turned my head, I smiled to see he was sound asleep.

As Selina approached me, I stood quietly and stared down at him for a full minute. She set a hand on my shoulder and whispered, "Thanks for coming, Tim."

"No problem. I'll try and drop by during the day tomorrow. When he's a little less drugged."

She smiled, leaned forwards and kissed my cheek, "Go on, save some damsels in distress."

I walked towards the door, opening it silently. Before closing it, I looked over to see Selina sit on the edge of Bruce's bed, her hand gently holding onto his. Such love in her eyes.

As I stepped into the hallway, I was all the more grateful that I knew that same love.

^V^

I woke at eleven-thirty that night with a roaring wave of nausea.

I woke at three-thirty in the morning with a vicious cramp in my left thigh.

I woke again at five-fifteen with a bloody nose.

Then I gave up on sleep and contented myself with staring at the ceiling.

Although they had provided cots and bedding and had even gone as far as offering another gurney for Selina to sleep on, she had politely refused. Instead, she sat in the chair beside me, her hand locked onto mine while she dozed lightly. When I woke the first time, my insides wanting to come outside via my mouth, she woke with a start, practically jumping out of her chair.

I had told her I was fine but it did little to convince her. She felt my forehead, asking what was wrong. I explained it was nothing more than some queasiness and that it would subside on its own. When I was about to tell her she should really get some sleep on the cot or to have the nurses bring in the gurney, my stomach decided a bought of heaves were needed first.

Fortunately I hadn't ingested solid foods in nearly twenty-four hours, so nothing came up but water and bile.

Unfortunately, it came up all over the blanket covering my lap.

With nothing left to expel, I fought dry heaves for a few moments before sitting back, sweaty and angry. I had spent my life learning to control my body and its every function. Alfred had always done his best to comfort me when I was ill, or injured enough so that I couldn't handle basic daily tasks on my own. Deep down I knew his intentions were good but that still never stopped me from being cruel to him.

Selina had pressed the call button on the wall above the gurney and then touched my hand, "Are you okay." I ignored her and went about pushing the blankets off of me. She took them into the bathroom and put them into a plastic clothes hamper. When she returned, she had a cup of water with her, "Here."

I took it without looking at her and downed it, slightly rinsing the foul taste from my palate. As I was about to ask her for a toothbrush, the door opened to reveal the night shift nurse, Angie Taylor. She had introduced herself shortly before Tim had arrived. She seemed knowledgeable enough but had been skeptical when I refused the regular dosage of morphine and the Lorazepam to help me sleep. The pain wasn't that bad, actually it had been far less than I what I prepared for, so I felt it was unnecessary to push the drugs.

Even later with my legs on fire and my guts in knots, I felt it was unnecessary.

She had quickly crossed the room, checked over my vitals just as another nurse entered with clean sheets and a blanket. Changing the bed meant I had to get up. Getting up no doubt meant extreme pain on my very much drug-free body.

Not wanting the nurses hands on me, I allowed Selina to help me out of bed. She carefully shifted my legs so than hung from the edge and then helped me inch off of the gurney and onto my feet, baring most of my weight on the walker. Even still, I felt the hot flashes of pain shooting up and down my legs and it took what little control I had left to keep from grimacing. With the bed changed, I was able to sit back once more, not surprised when the pain didn't immediately vanish.

Angie then reached into her smock pocket and revealed a small bottle and a packaged sterile syringe. While Selina helped me lay back down, I watched as she drew out two cc's of the fluid before tapping out the tiny air bubbles. "What's that?" I managed.

"Droperidol. It will alleviate the nausea and help you get back to sleep."

She retrieved another syringe and drew from another and much larger bottle. "And that?"

"Saline to flush out the IV catheter." She inserted it and cleaned out the IV before she injected the second needle into the IV line in my hand and depressed the plunger. "It will take a few minutes to kick in. Are you sure you don't want anything for the pain, Mr. Wayne?"

Selina smiled and I was quick to realize it was because of the incidental rhyme the nurse had said. I shook my head, "I'll be all right. Thank you."

"We're just down the hall if you need anything. Good night."

"Good night," Selina replied. Alone once more, she turned back to me, "I know what will make you feel better?"

"Oh?"

She nodded before turning off the overhead light. I felt her sit on the bed before reclining beside me. She took my arm and draped it over her side. After a moment, she whispered, "We should have asked for a king-sized gurney."

"I'll remember that for next time," I whispered as I tried to move over. I had an appointment with Dr. Reynolds at ten in the morning to take my first walk and I couldn't even stand moving my legs let alone walking on them.

Somehow, we both managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. I was lost in the fog of a dream when I woke the second time, with tightness in my leg. Half awake, I decided it was nothing and closed my eyes once more. But the tightness became over-whelming, causing the muscles of my thigh to clench unmercifully. I tried to massage it gently but the act caused only more pain.

My breathing hitched and I couldn't help but grimace. Selina mumbled in her sleep and as much as I wanted to wake her, I didn't. I tried a few breathing exercises and did my best to meditate. Eventually, I was able to focus my thoughts elsewhere and the pain subsided on its own.

The third time I woke, I sharp throbbing had settled in my head. I sat up slowly as to not wake Selina and reached a hand to my brow. Unfortunately as I sat up, blood that had been collecting slipped down the back of my throat, causing me to gag.

I pinched my nose shut and leaned forward, cursing softly. Selina mumbled as she rolled onto her back, "Bruce?"

"I'm fine."

She yawned before sitting up as well, her hand making its way to my shoulder, "What's wrong?"

Keeping my face turned away from her, I said, "Nothing. Go back to sleep."

"Bruce, nothing with you always means something," she sighed as she leaned back to turn on the light. She then gasped, no doubt at the blood that stained the pillow I had been sleeping on. Without hesitating, she slipped off of the bed and looked at my face, "Damnit, Bruce…"

"It'll stop, just give it a minute," I growled harder than I had intended.

After stepping into the bathroom momentarily, she returned with a wad of sterile gauze and then moved my hand away. She then pressed the material to my nose and pinched it into place, no doubt harder than necessary but clearly intended.

We waited in silence until the nosebleed stopped, our eyes locked on one another. I tried a few icy glares but none of them fazed her. She threw the soiled gauze away and wet a washcloth and gave it to me while she removed the pillowcase. After I washed my face and hands, she took and threw it in the bathroom.

The look on her face suggested that she was not about to get back into bed with me, so I reclined, taking the second pillow for my own.

"Excuse me?"

"What?"

"That's my pillow. And move over."

"… Yes, dear."

We shared the single pillow and this time she slipped under the covers, careful not to touch my legs. After a while, she spoke, "They always say the first night is the hardest."

"I suppose they are right," I replied, carefully placing my hand on her side.

"What lies ahead can't nearly be as bad as this. I know I'm beautiful, but even I need beauty sleep."

The nurse was scheduled to come in at seven to check the IV and to give me the various antibiotics I had been prescribed. As I glanced at the clock on the wall, I saw that it would be a little less than two hours of sleep, most of it restless, therefore pointless. As I listened to Selina's breathing become regular, I thought of how she had been the first thing I had seen when waking in recovery. She had brought Dick and Alfred's lunches to them and met up with Dr. Reynolds to talk with him. And being the persuasive woman she was, she convinced him to let her sit with me for a while.

She had a worried look on her face that she had tried to hide with a smile. My throat sore from being intubated, I managed a weak croak that had sounded nothing like her name. She told me to shut up and leaned forward to kiss me. I asked her how Mattie was and she had told me that she had spent most of the day keeping busy but seemed worried that something would happen. I had sighed; thinking that with my infamous luck, I had been a bit worried myself.

Two hours later, Dr. Reynolds cleared me to go back downstairs. Still a bit groggy, I was amazed at how little pain there was considering the nature of the procedure. Then again, as the drugs wore off, no doubt I would be able to reinvent my understanding of the word agony.

Mattie had been napping in one of the chairs but as soon as I was moved into the room, she stirred and woke. As much as I wanted to hug and hold her, I simply didn't have the energy. She crawled up onto the bed with me and locked her arms around my neck, whispering into my ear how much she loved me and how she had missed me.

Then she said she was going to read to me.

I had dozed on and off for most of the afternoon, unaware of time or pretty much anything else. As night came, I had been able to recognize the voices in the room although it took a bit of effort to keep up with the conversations. Dr. Reynolds dropped in before he left for the night and reminded me of our appointment. As if I was going anywhere anytime soon…

As the beginnings of dawn seeped through the curtains, I thought, One day down. Three to go.

Three days until I could sleep in my own bed and be woken in the morning by Mattie's kisses and the cats clawing at my feet.

Three more days until I could have a real meal, no doubt engineered by Alfred to help boost my immune system.

Three days until the real fun began.

Considering my good condition prior to the surgery, Dr. Reynolds predicted that recovery would be around six weeks barring and unpredicted infections or mishaps. As long as I followed my doctor and physical therapist's orders, I would be fine. I had no other choice with Alfred, Leslie and Selina there to keep me in line.

And of course the future Dr. Mattie Elizabeth Wayne.

^V^


	2. What Lies Ahead: II

Title: What Lies Ahead: II

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: As Bruce begins recovery, the Family begins to get back to normal.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: The Electric Drill incident is that seen in Friends.

^V^

Maybe it was because he was accident-prone.

Or that his lips had twisted into an evil smile.

But something made me uneasy about handing over the power drill to Dick.

I took a swallow from my water bottle and eyed the drill in my hand. With a sigh, and a silent prayer to God, I gave it to him.

"The city of Bludhaven issued me a firearm, Tim, so pull your panties out of your butt."

"First of all, I do not wear panties. Second, if I did, they would not be in my butt and if they were, I would have the decency to fix them in private. Lastly, the city of Bludhaven would give a gun to a platypus if it looked good in the blue."

Dick glared at me for a moment before breaking into a grin, "You're right, you wouldn't pull at your panties in public, I forgot you're the mature, decent one of the bunch."

It was the last Thursday in October and after four solid weeks of working on the "new" house we were nowhere near being done. Cass said I was being pessimistic, and I called her unrealistic as she still planned on moving in before Thanksgiving. Barbara even suggested that we host the dinner that year. Microwave turkey dinners for ten at a few card tables pulled together were obviously more appealing then Alfred's fine culinary production at Wayne Manor. Although most of the "corrective surgery" on the house was complete, we still needed to put in the new hardwood floors downstairs and the carpets upstairs, the kitchen needed the new cabinets and counter tops installed as well as the new doors and windows.

Dick stepped through the open entranceway that connected the future den with the future dining room. Having repaired and replaced numerous support studs in the walls and nailing up the new drywall, Cass and I had spent the last week painting. The ground floor had been far more in need of maintenance than the second floor and we had spent most of the last month focusing our attention there. Aside from the den and dining room, there was a spacious kitchen, a bathroom, pantry and an office room on the ground floor, as well as a large foyer that was backed by a curved staircase. Up the stairs there were three bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a small spare room with a massive window that Cass and I had agreed would make a nice meditation room. The basement had been in much better condition than I had expected and only needed a good hosing and cobweb dusting. The ceiling was even high enough down there so that Cass and I would be able to train and spar without knocking our heads on the beams.

"So where do you want this shelf?" he asked.

"There should be pencil marks for where to drill the holes."

"Ah, I see 'em."

As he began to drill in the pre-marked spots, I decided to get to work on painting the wall by the front window. Deciding that white was too perky, and that it would only get dirty, we had chosen mostly medium and dark colors for the various rooms. The den was going to be a medium shade of blue, formally known as "Fragrant Cloud", with an off white for the trim around the windows. I found the can of paint, popped the top off and stirred it quickly before pouring some out into a paint tray. The day before, Cass had done most of the top part so I went right to work on finishing the lower part.

As I dipped the roller in the paint, I asked Dick, "So how did you make out in the Haven last night?"

He laughed, "Well… Let's just say my presence was sorely missed."

"Oh yeah?"

He fired the drill again before answering, "I got there around nine, went right to work, had Babs running me ragged… Seemed like every thug I brought down, I had another fifty to go after. I got home around seven this morning, exhausted, and all I wanted to do was crash."

"I would."

"Exactly," he declared, "But Babs had decided to be ambitious and was already up, had thrown all the sheets and blankets in the wash."

"Shitty," I smirked as I maneuvered the roller to cover a spot I had missed.

"You bet it was shitty. So I ended up going in the den, crashed in one of the chairs. Fell asleep to Katie Couric telling me how I should start planning my retirement now. Almost wanted to call and ask her what I should do since I retired last year."

We laughed together for a bit before lapsing back into silence. Feeling some sort of personal guilt, he had decided that a few trips a week to the Haven were in order. There was no doubt in my mind that in one night he had made his statement, just as loud and clear as he had when he first arrived years earlier. Nightwing was back and he wasn't taking crap from anyone. I had offered to go along with him but he had half-smiled and said, "No offense, Tim, but I have to take care of it," leaving _because it's my city_ unspoken.

I had nearly finished the one wall when he asked, "So, I take it your night wasn't too bad?"

"Nah, we handled things all right."

"Kind of makes me wonder what it was like back in the day. When it was just him."

I added, "Don't forget Alfred."

"Ah yes, Dust Buster Boy. At least he never had to run around in green underoo's."

Laughing to myself at the bizarre image of Alfred sporting Dick's Robin suit, I accidentally dropped a dollop of blue paint on my shoe and quickly knelt to wipe it away.

He then added, "After this summer, I would have taken the underoo's compared to the full suit though."

"You got that right," I muttered quietly. I had to learn to deal with wearing the full cowl during one of the warmest September's Gotham had seen in over twenty years. Even with closely cropped hair, the sweat poured out of me, daring me to scratch my head during stakeouts.

As Dick drove the drill into the wall once more, he said, "Yep, that's the part Bruce never lets you in on. Being Batman automatically gives you serious bad-ass street cred but your head smells like a foot."

I was about to tell him that his head always smelled like a foot when the doorbell rang. "Expecting company?" I asked him.

"No. You?"

Curiosity fueling my stride, I made it to the front door before whoever was on the other side had a chance to ring again. The new door hadn't come in yet and the one that was before me had a broken spy hole, so I chanced my life and simply turned the knob.

Dressed in dark jeans and a dark gray cashmere turtleneck, Bruce stood on the step, eyes aimed up to the terrace above the front door. Before he looked down, I spotted his new black Mercedes S600 parked down the street. I had dropped by to visit the Manor before work the other day and had seen him pull up in it. My Honda was in the garage and he could have parked in the driveway…

No doubt he was already testing his walking limitations.

I looked back to see his eyes were on me, "Hello, Tim. Hope I'm not interrupting."

Shaking my head, I stepped back and pulled the door open, "No, Dick and I were just pretending to know what we're doing."

He offered a half-nod and then slowly walked in, doing his best to use the walking cane as little as possible. Barely a month after the knee replacements and he was already off of the walker. Over lunch with Alfred a week earlier, I found out that Bruce was doing remarkably well and was actually doing what the physical therapist told him. I had also been told that Selina would fillet her beau if he did otherwise.

I lead him to the den, where Dick was removing the drill bit, "I only have one hole left to drill but the damn bit's bent, did you have any other ones?" He looked up to see our guest and nodded, "Hey, come to join the fun?"

"Observation, no participation," Bruce said while he glanced about the room. He had offered to pay for private contractors to finish the work on the house but having been fired from my job at the bank for being late six times too many, I had free time and a need to do something constructive.

As I looked in the toolbox by the window for another drill bit, I heard Dick ask, "So what brings you our way?"

Bruce paused before answering, "Selina and Mattie are shopping and I had an appointment."

I smirked, quickly translating "appointment" as being a session with his physical therapist.

Searching through the bottom of the box, I grimaced to see the only other drill bit I had was eight inches long, one of the super drills we had used on the wall studs. Maybe I could knock Dick unconscious and get the power drill back from him…

"Did you have another one, Timmy?"

Or maybe Bruce could help restrain him as I finished the job.

"Yeah," I muttered, grasping the drill bit. I handed it over to him, "Only one I could find." Dick's eyes lit up in amusement and when I looked over to Bruce, I wasn't surprised to see that his eyes had lit up in horror.

As much as I wanted to ask about his therapy session, I didn't want to see Bruce put his cane through my head. I glanced down at his legs just in time to see him shift his weight, urging me to ask if he wanted to sit. Then I reminded myself about the cane being pierced into my skull…

"Look at this bad boy," Dick laughed as he fired up the drill, pointing the bit towards the sky. "Remember that show? What was it, the tool guy grunted like an ape?"

"Home Improvement," I replied.

"Yeah, good show," Dick smiled and stepped on the other side of the wall, grunting softly.

The house fell silent again.

Nothing like quality bonding time with the Batmen.

Leaning against the wall, I finally mustered up the courage, cane be damned, "So how did it go this morning?"

Bruce's brow arched slightly. For a moment I thought he wasn't even going to reply but then he said, "Fine. I don't have to wear the support braces anymore… and I can start pressing weights."

I was about to ask what the limits were for his leg presses when Dick bore the drill into the other side of the wall. Not wanting the buzzing in my ear, I moved away from the wall. Then I looked back in horror as the drill pierced through my side of the wall, exactly where my head had been. A loud shriek sounded in the room and it took a moment to realize it had been me.

Dick's head appeared in the entrance, "Oh, I'm sorry, did I get you?"

My eyes shot from his face to Bruce and then back to Dick's. In utter disbelief I snapped, "It's an electric drill! You get me, you kill me!"

Dick rolled his eyes, "There's no need to get feisty," before disappearing behind the wall and removing the drill.

I looked back to Bruce to see him fighting back a smirk. He lost when Dick added, "I'll even patch the hole. Big bad bat. More like a big bad crybaby…"

^V^

"You look tired."

Bruce turned his head to me briefly before setting his gaze back to the road in front of him. He cleared his throat and flipped the windshield wipers on in defense of the slow drizzle that had started.

I sighed in defeat and glanced back at Mattie who was sitting in the back seat, eyes glued to her window. We had planned on going on a trail ride at the barn after a day of shopping but the unexpected weather had put an end to her afternoon excitement. I offered to go with her to ride in the indoor arena but she had sighed and said she didn't care.

"So what do you want to do this afternoon, Mattie?" I asked her.

She shrugged, her eyes never leaving the rain tracked window.

"How about we call Katarina's mom, maybe she can come over for a while."

"She's visiting her grandma and grandpa for the weekend," Mattie replied.

Another sigh in defeat, I sat back against the seat and looked back at Bruce, "Well, what do you think we should do?"

"Whatever you want to do," he answered quietly, switching lanes to make our exit.

He had spent the morning at the physical therapist's while Mattie and I had shopped. He dropped by Tim's quick before meeting us for lunch at one, seeming a bit more irritated than he had that morning. No doubt he had a rough session of hydrotherapy and therapeutic massage.

I kidded with him as much as it was feasible on how well he was dealing with the menial tasks assigned by his therapist, Karlie, the blonde who was half his age. As she worked with Bruce during his thrice-weekly appointments, she went on and on about what good condition he kept himself in and how well he was progressing. I had stayed for the first few sessions as to learn what exercises he should be doing at home and what his limitations and goals were to be. She complimented and encouraged and was verbally supportive of every little step he took, thus irritating him to no end. After the first session and after hearing, "You are doing super, Bruce!" about a thousand times, he was ready to strangle the poor girl.

"It's her job to be supportive, dear," I had reminded him on the ride home.

He had grumbled back, "Agreed. She's doing a super job. She's a really super therapist. She should get a super raise."

A month since the surgery, he had shown a great deal of improvement. I still remembered the first day, when he had to walk for Dr. Reynolds, the look of pain in his eyes. Although he wanted to leave the hospital as soon as possible, he was kept for five days instead of three, since the swelling had not subsided to the doctor's preference. Diuretics and ice packs for two days only fueled Bruce's desire to go home.

For the first two weeks, he had actually used the walker as directed and wore the support braces whenever he was going to be walking more than thirty feet. Mattie had taken on the caretaker role and spied on her father to make sure he was doing what the doctor ordered. After the first fourteen days, he went to using the cane, a black, glossy thing I never even knew he had. Although he did flexion and strength exercises with Karlie, at home he did as much as he could to keep his legs from growing weak. I caught him numerous times wandering the house with ankle weights on. One morning, he snuck out of bed early to use the leg press in the Manor's gym. Mattie had spotted him when she had woken from bed and was quick to tattle on him.

It wasn't all bad though. Since he had the hot tub available to him, Dr. Reynolds and Karlie suggested using it every evening as to relax the leg muscles and to encourage good circulation. Wanting nothing but the best for my husband, I not only made it certain that he followed this particular order, I went in the hot tub with him to ensure he stayed in and received the full benefit of it.

The car was silent for the rest of the ride home and I alternated between staring at Bruce and Mattie. With Alfred gone for the weekend, a bed and breakfast retreat to northern New York with Leslie, I was looking forward to a quiet afternoon with two brooding individuals to keep me company. As we pulled up the drive, I thought that I was better off holing up in the bedroom with the cats and a good book.

We parked in the garage and I was the first one out. I opened Mattie's door and watched her get out as slowly as possible, her pout in full gear. Reaching into the backseat, I took out the bags of clothing and was about to close her door when I realized Bruce had yet to move. "You all right?"

He nodded but offered no explanation as to why he wasn't getting out.

I told him that I was going to go upstairs with Mattie and told him to honk if he wanted help. He growled something to himself and opened his door before reaching for the cane. Whenever he had a long day of activity, such as walking about and having a therapy session, followed by a moment of him sitting down for a period of time, say the drive from downtown to Bristol, I had noticed it took a bit for him to get going again. Whether it was general stiffness from sudden inactivity or soreness from overdoing things, he wouldn't say. It was something, and I had called Dr. Reynolds about it. He said that it was both stiffness and pain, of which would dissimilate as Bruce adapted to the prosthesis.

By the time I had made it to the service entrance, I heard the door shut from the car followed by Bruce's footsteps. Knowing he wouldn't want me to wait for him, I followed Mattie upstairs and then passed her by to head to our room. I had just opened the closet doors when Mattie came in and plopped onto the bed, face down into the blankets. I took the three skirts I had picked up that morning out of the bag and went to hang them up. When I returned for the blouses, Mattie had rolled onto her back and was swinging her legs back and forth on the edge of the bed.

"Bored?" I asked while retrieving the shirts.

"Yeah," she answered quietly.

"Well, maybe you can pick out a game or something, and Dad and I can play it with you."

"That's okay."

I paused, set the blouses on the dresser top and walked over and sat beside her, "You want to be bored?"

She shrugged her tiny shoulders and looked up at me, "I don't know."

"Well, the rain isn't going to let up, kiddo," I offered as I stood up and returned to the dresser.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as she rolled off of the bed and slowly made her way out into the hall towards her room. I hated seeing her mope about the house like a mini-Bruce, especially with him already moping about the house…

Just as I closed the closet doors, having put everything away, Bruce entered the room, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow and the beginnings of color rising to his cheeks.

"You didn't just do what I think you just did, did you?" I growled.

He slowly sat on the bed and set his cane against the bedside table, "That depends on if what you think I did is in fact the same as what I just did."

I approached him, arms crossed so that I would choke him to death, "You were told you could climb up a few steps, not three floors."

"That is a few steps. In Budapest I climbed over a thousand steps to get to this one---."

"That was when you were stupid and eighteen, not recently operated on and forty-three."

He looked up at me, "It didn't kill me."

"I might," I tried to glare at him but he only smirked back, "Damnit, I hate you sometimes," I sighed as I turned to walk away.

"Sometimes?" he asked as he hooked his arm around my midsection, pulling me to the bed, "Sometimes?" he asked again as snatched onto one of my wrists and put his other one firmly on my side, "When have you ever hated me?"

"Right now," I tried not to laugh but when he leaned over and kissed my neck, I gave up. Doing what he wasn't supposed always brought out the devil in him, whether it be breaking into some secret government compound or disobeying his super physical therapist…

I grinned as I added silently, Or chasing me on rooftops.

"Can we play Candyland?" Mattie's voice asked from the hallway.

Bruce and I sat up in an instant, just before Mattie walked into the room with the game box in her hands. His hand was still on my side and I swatted it away as I stood, "Sure, do you want to play in here?"

She nodded and walked over to the bed, setting the box next to her father before climbing up beside him. I turned on the bedroom stereo to some soft rock music and then returned to the bed to help set up the game.

We played it twice, Mattie beating us both times, leaving Bruce's brow contorted in confusion, as he seemed unable to get of the Molasses Swamp. It was a little before six and instead of starting another round for Mattie to pull a Hat Trick with, I suggested we get dinner started.

"Can I help, Mom?"

"Sure, put the game up and meet me downstairs."

As she went about folding the game board, she asked, "Are you going to help too, Dad?"

He paused before answering, "I'm sure there's something that---.

"That doesn't involve fire," I interrupted.

He finished, "That… I can help out with."

And there was.

Mattie picked out the meal for the night, grilled chicken and pilaf. While I went about grilling the chicken cutlets and boiled water for the rice, Mattie supervised Bruce as he diced vegetables and tore up lettuce for the side salads. Mattie and I set the table, lit candles and after we brought the food out, Bruce arrived with a pair of wine glasses and a glass of cider for his daughter.

After we sat and began to eat, Bruce asked, "Did you have fun last night at the Halloween party?"

Mattie nodded exuberantly as she chewed on a forkful of pilaf. Instead of Trick or Treating, she had been invited to the first grade Halloween party that was held in the school gymnasium. That year she had gone as a princess, wearing a blue and silver shimmering gown, glittering tiara and a beaming smile. I had gone along with her and had volunteered to help chaperone the event, spending the better part of two hours photographing adorably dressed six-year-old's while running the coloring table. I had asked if Bruce wanted to go with me but the twitch of his left eye suggested that he wasn't ready to be around the mass of children.

Mattie swallowed wiped her mouth with her hand and said, "Everyone from school was there and Mrs. Ellenhoff was Dorothy from Wizard of Oz and then Ms. Raymond was Toto and even Mrs. Happschatt, my music teacher, she was there too and she was a banjo."

"Sounds like a good time," he said quietly before sipping from his glass.

"We had fun, didn't we, Mom?"

"Absolutely," I smiled warmly at her before asking Bruce, "So how was the house coming along?"

"Good. They were… painting today."

Before I could ask who had been there, Mattie asked, "Can I go see the new house, Dad?"

"Of course, we'll call Tim tomorrow, see what he's doing."

Her eyes lit up before she asked, "Can I paint too?"

I smiled, "You'll have to ask Tim, kiddo."

"I'm a good painter, Mom, everyone knows that."

After dinner, Bruce took her upstairs to bathe and to read with her before tucking her in. I put the radio on in the kitchen and hummed softly while rinsing the dishes and cleaning up kitchen. Just as I turned to head into the hallway, I was surprised to see Bruce leaning against the doorframe. I approached him and asked for him to let me through.

He looked down at me silently, no sign of moving.

I kissed his lips quickly and said, "Last one in the hot tub's a rotten egg," as I eased passed him and jogged towards the rear of the house. I shut the doors of the poolroom behind me, turned the lights on just enough so that I could see and quickly undressed before stepping into the hot tub. As Bruce opened the door, I had just turned on the jets and was adjusting the heat to an even one hundred and two degrees.

He paused next to the edge of the hot tub and looked down at me. I watched him silently for a full minute before asking if he planned on get in.

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"And?"

"And… it seems like a wise course of action."

"You're getting wise in your old age," I snickered as he let the cane drop to the floor. Clothes removed, he slipped into the bubbling water as carefully as possible, and I tried to tell whether it was from the heat of the water or the pain of getting in.

And a minute later, when Bruce growled into my ear, "Where did we leave off earlier?", I didn't care.

^V^

"How much do you love me?" I asked innocently.

There was a pause before Dick's voice came over my speakers, "Why?"

I sighed, "Wrong answer."

"Well, I'm kind of---ooof--- busy."

"Oh, doing what?" I asked, fighting a smile.

"Saving the day…" he growled before a loud thud sounded. He was quiet for a moment, then grunted with effort before continuing, "You now have my undivided attention."

"I was wondering if you pick up some lo mein before coming home."

"O, it's like three in the morning."

I glanced at the monitor's lower right hand corner and corrected him, "It's quarter of three. And the Great Wall is open twenty-four hours---"

He interrupted, "Who needs a twenty-four hour Chinese place?"

"I do."

Dick growled something to himself and signed off.

Forty minutes later, as I was shutting down the computers and closing shop for the night, I heard footsteps in the kitchen. Maneuvering in the dark, I paused just outside of the kitchen door and peered inside. Clad in his black and blue uniform, minus the gloves, mask and boots, Dick poured noodles from a white container into a large bowl and then went about dumping the contents of a silver carry out tray into another bowl.

"I got a few egg rolls, too," he said suddenly without turning to look at me.

"Why don't you change, I'll take care of this," I suggested as I approached him.

He popped a small piece of glazed chicken into his mouth before nodding and leaning closer to me, kissing me on the lips gently before standing upright and heading towards the bedroom. After dishing out the rest of the food, I grabbed two bottles of Coke from the fridge; the plastic wrapped fortune cookies and then made my way to the bedroom. Dick had recently instituted the Saturday night "Picnic in Bed" practice that had actually served a multitude of purposes. We were able to watch a movie together, talk about the week that had passed as well as the one that was coming up, all the while doing our best to be a normal engaged couple.

Dick's proposal had come as a rather interesting shock. I had always joked with myself that he would neither be brave enough nor mature enough to commit to that kind of a relationship. Then again, it was a risky business to predict what Dick would and would not do, as I had learned time and time again.

"What's cooking, good looking?" Dick smiled as he emerged from the bathroom.

I was just getting onto the bed and when I turned to look at him, I smiled to see him wearing the blue flannel Superman pants Tim had gotten him for his birthday a few years earlier. "Nice threads," I commented as I sat back against the headboard, moving a pillow out of my way.

He walked to the TV that was on the dresser and asked what I wanted to watch. I said I didn't care as I opened the soda bottle. He squatted before the dresser, opened the cabinet and browsed through the few movies that had collected there over the summer. "How about Silence of the Lambs?"

I rolled my eyes, "How about something a little bit more compatible with eating?" As he searched, I glanced over the edge of the bed at him and frowned to see a splash of bruising across his lower back. From the looks of it, the injury was less than an hour old. "Sweetie?"

"Yeah?" he replied without pausing in his quest for the movie.

"You get in over your head tonight? Or rather, did you fall on your head tonight?"

He turned his head, confusion branded on his face until I pointed to his back. Then he smirked, "Oh, that."

"Oh, that?"

"How's Moulin Rouge, that's a fun movie."

"Richard."

He stood, popped the movie in the DVD player after turning the TV on and then sat next to me, still offering no explanation. When he reached for his bowl of rice and chicken, I swatted his hand away. He tried to block it in order to reach with his other hand, but I grabbed the bowl and held it away from him. "Come on, Babs, I'm starving."

"I believe we were at 'Oh, that'," I locked eyes with him.

He muttered softly and when I asked him to repeat himself he answered, "Cass and I were taking out a group of those Rasta boys down in the Bowery. She took three kicks to knock out this one guy and I said that it was because she kicked like a girl."

"Are you suicidal?"

He sighed, hit a button, pausing the beginning of the movie and looked back at me, "Only in the morning. So anyway, she decided to prove that she could flatten a guy with one kick if she wanted to and---."

"Cass beat you up?"

"No," he said sharply before continuing, "But she kicks like a damned mule."

"She kicked your ass," I smiled.

"Back, she kicked me in the lower back. Where did you learn anatomy?"

"Poor baby," I said while reaching a hand over to touch the bruised skin. He flinched on contact and I laughed, "You want an ice pack?"

"No, I'll live. All I need now is some good food, good entertainment and good company." He looked over at me and winked. Before I could tell him that was sweet, he looked back to the TV and added with a pleased look on his face, "And you can't get better company than a scantily dressed Nicole Kidman."

"Got a thing for red heads, huh?" I asked as I secretly took an egg roll off of my plate.

"Guess so," he whispered, inching closer toward me.

"How about now?" I asked, smashing the egg roll into his face.

I did my best to keep from laughing as he carefully licked his lips after wiping away the crushed shell and its contents off of his bare chest and onto the bed. "You put crumbs all over the bed."

I looked down at the mess that sprawled before us before looking back up at his face.

He felt my forehead and then sat back, "Barbara, I think you have the Plague."

"Shut up and eat your take out," I smiled at him and began picking up the remains of the egg roll.

Watching the first half of the movie, Dick hummed along with most of the songs, and actually managed to sing quietly along with the characters. With the lo mein and chicken gone, all that was left was a pair of fortune cookies. I handed one over to Dick and he sat upright, grinning as he ripped open the plastic. I opened mine, in a less enthusiastic manner, before cracking open the fragile treat.

Dick had yet to open his cookie when he said, "What does your fortune cookie say? And don't forget to add 'in bed' at the end."

I unfolded the scrap of paper and read it to myself before reading it aloud, "Be moderate where pleasure is concerned, avoid fatigue... in bed."

He let out a few giggles, "Ha, that's a good one. Mine says that I have unusual equipment for success, use it properly... in bed."

Instead of laughing, I remained silent, looking over at him with an arched brow, "Unusual equipment? ... Is there something you're not telling me, hon?"

The look on his face finally forced me to smile. And his words brought forth the laughter I had been holding back, "... I hate the fortune cookie game."

^V^

At five before eleven, I was still sound asleep after a busy night of patrols.

At three before eleven, there was a loud banging on the apartment door.

At two before eleven, I was rolling off of the bed and onto the floor.

I pulled on a robe that was lying on the floor beside me and stumbled down the hall towards the front door. Just as I reached it, the visitor knocked once more and I growled, "Give me a minute."

After staying out on patrols late, I had followed Tim home and crashed at his place. Starving, we finished off the pasta primavera from our dinner the night before and then changed and went to bed. I remembered trying to say something to him but he was already snoring. When he rose to go to class at nine, I opened my eyes halfway, mumbled something to him along the lines of having a good day and he simply laughed quietly before slipping out of the room.

Insert loud, obnoxious knocking as my wake-up call…

Barbara stared back at me when I opened the door, taking in my disheveled appearance, "Did you just wake up?"

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I yawned.

After I stepped back, she passed through and I shut the door. She continued on into the living room and looked around as she said, "I'm going to take Dad and Dick out to lunch. Wanted to know if you were up, if you wanted to come along."

"It's eleven in the morning," I sighed as I plopped onto the couch.

"So?" she asked.

"Some people like to sleep in. Some people don't go to bed until four in the morning."

She shrugged, "Sounds like a personal problem. So do you want to come? Lunch is on me."

"Tempting, but I have lots of sleep left in me."

"You can sleep later, get dressed, I'll be downstairs waiting."

As I opened my mouth to refuse her offer once more, she turned and headed to the front door, calling out, "Wear something nice, we're going to Carvelli's."

I pouted for another minute after Barbara left and then trudged back to the bedroom. I had a small section of Tim's closet to myself. I found a plastic wrapped outfit, something I had left at Tim's after dinner one night. The next night I had spent at his place, I found it had been dry-cleaned. Add in the freakishly tidy apartment and unique nocturnal habits and he made for one atypical guy.

I donned the dark slacks and midnight blue blouse before running a comb through my hair and pinning it up into a spiky bun. Barbara was already in her car, waiting for me, and the second I closed the door, we were off. A few minutes later, she broke the silence by turning the radio on at a low volume then proceeded to tap the steering wheel to the soft music. I looked over at her hands and smirked slightly at the sight of her engagement ring. She and Selina had been getting together regularly to try and figure things out and I had done my best to stay out of it.

Tired and not really in the mood for silence, I asked, "So why are we going out to lunch?"

She sat back in her seat as we approached a red light, "It's the anniversary of when my Dad was first married."

"Oh."

"He doesn't like to celebrate it but I still take him out to dinner."

"And Dick and I have to go along because…"

She glanced over at me quickly before the light turned and she accelerated, "Because… The more the merrier. That and he… likes to see you guys."

I nodded and took to looking out the window. If anything had been more difficult than accepting Bruce stepping down as Batman, it had been seeing Barbara's father retire from his position as the commissioner. When I had first come to Gotham during No Man's Land, Barbara had quickly taken me under her wing. Not long after, my… David Cain had also come to Gotham, hired by Two-Face to gun down James Gordon. I had stepped in, speaking to him for the first time, thus setting him off guard. He made another attempt and although Batman had done his best to fight Cain off, I had intervened once more, burning the money Two-Face had set aside to pay him.

Saving Gordon's life and sparing further battle between Cain and Batman, I made a choice that had changed my life for the better. I would do everything in my power to help protect the other people in Gotham City, and I would do so under the command of the Dark Knight.

Since then, I had been able to see why Gordon was such a strong influence on his daughter, let alone on Batman. I remembered years ago, talking with Alfred about him as a younger man, starting his war on crime. He said that friendship he had shared with the former commissioner had been the one constant that had allowed his existence to be possible. Had he not been able to bond with Gordon, there was no telling how the Batman would have evolved…

"Here we are," Barbara said quietly as we pulled into the small parking area. The valet station was empty so she pulled into the first empty space and proceeded to get out. As I opened my door, I realized that we had parked next to a black Honda. And when I glanced inside, I smiled to see a laptop bag in the backseat beside a blue textbook labeled Applying _Business Research Methods in the 21st Century_.

Pointing to his car, I asked, "Tim's here?"

As we headed towards the restaurant, she replied, "He said he wasn't sure if he could make it… But guess he got out of class early."

"Or didn't go at all," I laughed quietly.

Once inside, the hostess showed us to a table near the back where Dick, Tim and Jim were all seated and nursing water glasses. Tim was the first to spot us and offered a slight smile before glancing about the room.

Dick was talking animatedly and when we were in earshot, we heard, "So then Edna called me at five-thirty this morning, I mean I just got to sleep… She's a nervous wreck, so I get up and go down there, prepared for a gang of Santos thugs and it turns out that a stray cat had snuck in and set off those motion sensors we put in the back… Damn thing had shredded about a dozens sets of clothes by the time we caught it. Had to make the world of dry cleaning safer before my morning frappuccino."

"Poor thing," Barbara sighed as took her spot next to Dick at the table.

He looked up and grinned, "Please, no more mock sympathy."

While I sat beside Tim, I asked Dick, "How's the back?"

As his smile faded into a pout, he muttered, "S'okay."

"What happened to your back?" Gordon asked softly.

Dick sighed heavily and took a while to respond. So Barbara interjected and replied, "He doubted the power the Cass's roundhouse."

"Ah. And is it safe to assume that she was able to clarify his doubt?"

I nodded, and added, "And then some."

A waitress with short black hair, tipped metallic blue appeared and took our drink orders. After I ordered ice water with lemon, I set my hand on Tim's knee and squeezed it to get his attention. He tensed slightly and then set his arm around the back of my chair, glancing at me with a quick smile before placing his own order of a Long Island Iced Tea. After the waitress left, I asked if he was done with school for the rest of the day.

"Yeah. Had the last two midterms this morning. Figured it was a worthy enough morning to celebrate."

I recalled the two topics he had studied for the day before, "Business Research and Ethics, right?"

He nodded and smirked slightly, "My favorite ones…"

Jim then asked what other ones he had taken that week when Tim's cell phone chirped the first few notes of The X-files theme. He grabbed it, answered, "Tim, what's up…" and then stood, "I'll be right back."

After he stood, he touched my shoulder, winked and then walked towards the front door. When my attention returned the table, Jim Gordon was shaking his head slightly.

"What is it, Dad?"

"Still hard to believe that… But sitting here with him, just now… Reminds me of Bruce," he fiddled with his napkin before continuing, "That outward soft, careless expression but his eyes… Always moving."

By the time Tim returned, our drinks had arrived and we had already ordered for ourselves and for him. And the conversation had shifted back to the security firm Dick and Jim were running. With fifteen clients, they were keeping themselves more than busy, causing them to consider hiring part-time help. I offered to help with filing things and tinkering on the computers and Dick grinned and said, "You're hired."

"Based on what credentials?" Jim asked.

"Well, she's young, smart, stylish and I have a foot shaped bruise on my back that says if we don't hire her, we'll have trouble sitting down for a while."

The small talk kept up until the food arrived, keeping things light and amiable. I kicked Tim's chair a few times and kicked mine back, doing his best to keep a straight face. He had another drink and by the end of lunch he was definitely loosening up. Since his life had changed recently, he had lost a bit of the spark that made him the Tim we all knew.

But sitting there, playing footsie and watching him harass Dick about my beating him up…

It made me glad Barbara had dragged me out of bed.

^V^

After spending the morning in town at Wayne Enterprises, milling about the office, feigning productivity, I had a quiet lunch with Lucius and a pair of eager interns from Hudson University that had been accepted into the working student program that we offered. Both had been tall, young, beautiful twenty-something graduate students with aspirations of making it big-time in the world of business. And both were equally ecstatic to meet me and couldn't elaborate enough how amazing I looked in person…

Afterwards, I had dropped by the Clocktower to give Barbara copies of the pictures from the Halloween party, of which she promptly skimmed before selecting her favorites and securing them on her refrigerator door. Just as I had been on my way out, her father had shown up, carrying his furry companion in his arms. As Barbara took the wiggling stout dog, I shared a few pleasantries with Jim, praying that the conversation would keep as far from my recovery as possible. He must have translated the look on my face as he kept his questions aimed about Mattie and work.

Hitting traffic on the way home, I managed to make the commute to Bristol in a little less than fifty-five minutes.

Upon arriving at the Manor, I picked up Mattie and her belongings and then drove the six and a half miles to Katarina's house where they were hosting a slumber party. Selina, who had been held up at the Preserve later than she had expected was supposed to drop her off and had called me shortly before I had left work. We were three minutes late to Katarina's, causing Mattie to squirm in the backseat of the car. When we pulled into her drive, she leapt out the door and raced to the front door, leaving me to carry her backpack and sleeping bag.

My daughter's best friend's father met me at the door, a lanky man in his mid-thirties whom I had no real association with outside of parent visiting days at school. He shook my hand, did a double take of my cane and then offered to let me in. I told him I could only stay a moment and Robert, I recalled his name after I heard his wife call out from the kitchen "Bob, can you run out and get more ice cream?!", showed me to the den where the girls had gathered and had piled their belongings next to the sofa. I managed to usher Mattie aside for a moment to go over a few things before letting her delve too deeply into a world of pretend princesses and make-up parties.

"Keep your inhaler in your pocket and when you go to bed, make sure you keep it with you. Don't run around too much, okay, and make sure you---."

"Brush my teeth and use my manners. I know, Dad. It'll be okay," she had interrupted me, taking my hand into hers. I then leaned over and hugged and kissed her goodnight and said for her to have a fun night. She had been to a number of birthday parties and sleepovers, but it never made leaving her behind any easier.

The ride home was silent and I put my cell phone in the glove compartment to keep myself from calling Katarina's house. A mile from my private drive, I spotted a black Jeep Cherokee following me and kept my eyes on the rear view mirror just as my cell phone rang. I picked it up and glanced at the display, a smile coming to my face as I read the name.

After one more ring, I answered, "Yes, dear."

Selina's voice replied, "You have a tail light out, darling."

"Oh?"

"No. Just wanted to get your attention."

I turned onto the drive and the Jeep followed suit fifteen seconds later. I slowed to less than five miles per an hour and when the Jeep approached, it moved to the left and came even with me, the passenger side window down. Matching my speed, Selina removed her sunglasses and gave me a slight wave. We both hung up and continued to drive side by side towards the Manor.

"Ladies first," I said to her.

She grinned, honked the horn and then passed me and headed towards the garage. I left the BMW out front as we were going to use it to go to dinner. Grabbing my briefcase in one hand and my cane in the other, I stepped out of the car and made my way to the open garage door. Selina was removing a duffle bag from the back of the Jeep and closed the door once I was next to her. She had left a little before six that morning, needing to spend a quiet, solitary day at her retreat. When she had departed, dressed in pristine dark jeans and a long sleeved slinky shirt and polar fleece vest, I smiled to see patches of dirt and fur had been rubbed into her wardrobe.

"I take it you had a good day," I said softly.

"Super. Those two male mountain lions were adorable today… could hardly keep their paws off of me."

"Is that so…" I smirked.

She rolled her eyes, "Don't be jealous, sweetheart, their love interest is a lot hairier than I am."

"But nowhere near as beautiful."

Selina laughed, "Down boy. Hey, how was Mattie, did everything go okay?"

"Oh I'm sure she's already covered in finger paint and cupcake icing."

We walked together into the house, her pace slowing to mine. She followed me to the study where I dropped off my briefcase and then we made our way to the stairwell. I was about to take the first step when she grabbed my arm and guided me down the hall towards the elevator. I was about to protest, but she rolled her eyes, "Oh don't start. Besides, it's pointless to waste all your energy on climbing stairs."

I tempted a glare but when it had no effect on her, I gave up.

She showered and changed in less than thirty minutes, during which I changed into a clean suit and tie. Instead of going into Gotham, we decided to eat at the new Italian place in Bristol. We shared a bottle of white wine, stuffed manicotti and a slice of double layer cherry cheesecake. Before heading home, we walked around the small park where Mattie had soccer practices in the summer. Selina had been talkative during dinner, reflecting back on what she had spent the day doing and then picking on me when I dropped a dollop of marinara on my tie. But as we walked through the lighted paths, she simply wrapped her arms around mine as she leaned against me.

It was wonderful.

Making our way back to the car, she suddenly asked, "Do you miss it?"

"It?"

"You know what I mean," she whispered softly.

We hadn't talked much about "it" because it was a sore subject and one that I wasn't too entirely sure about. Instead of leaving her question hanging in the cold air, I sighed heavily and managed, "I do know what you mean."

"And…"

"I do. I can see why it was so hard for you…"

She nodded, her head shifting as it rested on my shoulder, and her arms wrapped tighter around my biceps, "Good."

"That's good?" I asked as we paused beside the car.

She let go of my arm and then stood on her toes to kiss me on the lips gently, "I would hate to think you, especially you, could get over that big of a hurdle so easily. Good to see that there's a little bit of human inside here," she poked my chest playfully.

"Was that a compliment?"

"More like an observation," she smiled and walked to the passenger side and got in.

Her hand was anchored on mine for the entire ride home. Just as I slowed to turn up the drive for the third time that day, a large doe leapt out of the woods and I slammed on the breaks just in time to spare the life of the deer. My leg screamed in pain and I couldn't help but growl. "You okay," I asked through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, you?"

"Fine… Remind me to take up hunting deer."

With a bit more caution, I navigated the remainder of the drive, parked in the garage and stepped out without using the cane. Selina, still seated, picked it up and poked me in the rear with it, "Forget something?"

"Never," I mumbled to myself.

The house was eerily silent as Selina and I made our way through the darkened rooms and hallways. We took the elevator up to the third floor once more and as the car slowly ascended, she laughed suddenly, "Surprised that you didn't leave during dinner to call Mattie."

I had actually sent Mattie a text message on the phone she carried with her while Selina had searched through the wine list during dinner. I shrugged and said, "I have to learn to let her go sometime."

"Speaking of children," she began as we stepped into the elevator car, "Did you see Ellen and Bob's little one, Patrick?"

I shook my head and depressed the button for the third floor.

She continued, "Ellen brought him to the Halloween Party, dressed as a pumpkin."

"Ah," I said as the car stopped on our floor. Opening the door, I let her out first and then walked after her.

She glanced back at me before slowing her stride, "Don't give me that look."

"What look?" I asked quietly.

"That 'Don't bring up the subject I don't want to confront because it might trigger a mid-life crisis' look," she paused, opened the bedroom door and stepped inside, hitting the light switch on as she headed towards the dresser.

"It's not that I don't want to confront it, Selina," I replied as I sat on the bed and went about removing my tie and coat.

"It's a closed issue for you, I know," she said quietly while she took out her earring and unclasped her necklace.

I let out a long breath before saying, "I didn't say that."

She secured her jewelry in their velvet boxes and placed them in the top drawer of the dresser. After a moment, she pulled off her dress, let it fall to the floor and turned to face me wearing her slip and stockings, "You don't have to. It's all over your face every time I bring it up." Her lower lip twitched slightly and she turned away from me.

Ignoring the sting in my leg from slamming on the brakes, I rose and walked over to her, leaving the cane on the floor by the bed.

After setting my hands on her shoulders she whispered, "Don't."

I guided her around to face me and smiled down at her, "Since when do I do what you tell me?"

"I meant… Don't walk without your cane."

"Then I probably shouldn't walk without my cane while carrying you," I leaned forward, slipping my arm under her shoulders and legs and carried her to the bed. Instead of growling or clawing at me, she simply settled against me and wrapped her arms around my neck.

After slipping under the covers, we laid on our sides, facing one another, talking softly for nearly two hours. I vented my frustrations with therapy and inactivity and she unloaded all of her worries about my recovery and what the future held for us. This time, when she brought up the topic of having another child, I listened. I held her hand and kissed her fingers. I replaced my "Don't bring up the subject I don't want to confront because it might trigger a mid-life crisis" look with a slight smile.

Or as she quickly labeled it, the "I'd be more than happy to have another child with such a beautiful and talented woman" look.

^V^


	3. What Lies Ahead: III

Title: What Lies Ahead: III

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: A new Batman, an old villain...

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note:

^V^

There was nothing quite like a night of patrols in near freezing weather with a forecast of sleet, sleet and more sleet.

"Nightwing?" a gruff voice came over the comm. link.

"Yeah?" I replied after shaking the semi-frozen liquid from my hair.

"Twenty?"

"Kaplan and Morris Ave," I answered and was about to ask where he was when

I heard the soft click of disconnection.

He had taken to the infamous Bat-speak over the last few month, eerily bringing forth countless memories of Bruce's voice growling commands in as few syllables as possible.

I had checked the time and temperature not ten minutes earlier to be ten after two and three degrees above freezing. Having failed to find indoor crimes in order to get out of the weather, I was soaking wet and all too aware as to what a glacier felt like, with my mind only on a hot shower and some dry clothes.

After finishing patrols in the northern part of the city.

And after working on my future case of pneumonia.

At least it wasn't a busy night for patrols. The good part about winter was that most of the criminals hibernated and held off committing illegal acts until warmer weather, making patrols long, cold and boring.

Somehow, I had ended up across from the penthouse of Marc Antoli, an up and coming crime boss in Gotham. Having practically just arrived from Italy, he had already challenged a number of the longstanding families and was making fast friends with the right players. Being the curious individual that I was, I slipped out my binoculars and took a peak through the large windows of Antoli's humble fifteenth floor abode.

The lights were all on but only one figure could be seen, walking around the open apartment with a glass of wine, a small white hairy dog trotting at is heels. He was younger than I expected, no more than thirty, with close-cropped dark hair and face that any Italian mama would love to call her own. We had barely started to take an interest in him and no doubt once spring arrived, we'd spending a great deal more time on scaring the life out of him. And his little dog too.

I looked once more at the young man, watching him go about shutting the lights off. Just as I watched him turn out of sight, his body jerked twice and he stumbled backwards before falling to the ground, blood quickly staining the front of his pristine silk robe.

Before I had a chance to return the binoculars to their compartment, a tall figure appeared in the darkened window. Even without switching onto the night vision or even infrared lenses, I could see the light from another room reflecting on a metallic facemask.

Deadshot.

"O, where's the boss?" I asked into the link microphone sewn into my collar.

She took a moment to reply, "Why?"

"Because I'm not too keen about facing off with Floyd Lawton's twin pistols by myself."

"What?!"

I recapped what I had just seen as I replaced my binoculars and prepared a line. Grapple secure, I leapt off of the roof and sailed across, landing silently on the roof of the building. Sneaking in through the lobby and up the elevator would have been impossible with the regular goons keeping things in order. So that meant a long, risky trip up from the basement or a quick and equally risky entrance through the service door on the roof.

As I approached the small enclosure, I heard Barbara's voice, "All right, I called him, said he would be there in ten minutes at the earliest."

"Great… Might want to call in a few of those black-and-whites. To be official and whatnot."

"You always were a tattle-tale," she replied, the humor in her voice was practically nonexistent.

"I never tattled," I growled, pressing a listening device to the door in hopes to pick up near-silent assassin footsteps, "Told lots of tales though."

As I listened intently and played out the few dozen ways I would most likely get shot, I tried to decide whether it was best that I had stayed to witness the hit or if it had been better to never have looked in the first place. Then again, risking my life was standard protocol when it came to the greater good.

Bruce had spared Gordon's life years ago and had lost his memory for a year, but in the end he had become a better man.

Cass had been trained as a ruthless killer but having branched out she was a superb crime fighter.

Tim had changed his entire life, sacrificing normalcy and probably any level of considerable sanity to become Robin. And then Batman.

I had fallen in love with a gangly freckle-faced redhead when I was eleven years old and by the end of summer we would be man and wife…

Assuming I didn't die within the next ten minutes.

My morbid line of thinking was completely interrupted by the pitter-patter of Deadshot's feet. Instinctively, I dashed around to the other side of the closet sized structure and as the door opened slowly, I kicked it as hard as possible. I heard a soft cry of surprise and pain before the door flew back open. Playing the cat and mouse game, I snuck around the other side, my shadow escaping Deadshot's range of vision as he stepped out onto the slush covered roof. When he looked to where I had been, I went about embedding a Batarang into the back of his neck.

"Damnit, I hate this city," he growled as he swiftly spun around and fired his Colts at me.

Ducking out of the way, I threw two more Batarangs, only one of them landed in the desired destination of the gun barrel while the other one missed its target and impaled itself onto Deadshot's palm. He cursed the city once more and fired with the remaining gun, its bullet missing my head by a good two inches.

"Thought you'd given up the professional flunky hitman gig, Floyd?" I barked, keeping my eyes on his arms.

"Hey, even I need to make a buck now and then. Speaking of which," he yelled as he fired again, also missing me by inches as I darted away, "I charge extra for when I come to Gotham," he dodged my bolo and finished, "Simply because I have to deal with the Batman and his stooges."

"Stooge, who are you calling a stooge?" I leapt into the air and flipped over Deadshot, landing directly behind him, my arms coming down hard on his shoulders before wrapping around his unprotected throat. He head butted me twice and it was hard to discern the throbbing in my face with Oracle's voice shouting in my ear…

I removed one arm long enough to elbow him in the side of the neck I hadn't injured before grabbing his gun arm and wrenching it back, dislocating it, then kicking him in the small of his back. He flew forwards, growling in pain before spinning around to face me. When he tried to raise his arm to aim the wrist-mounted gun at me, his head reared back and he cried out.

"What's the matter, Floyd?" I took a step forward and kicked the half extended arm; in hopes to snap his wrist back just before he fired.

And as fate decided to twist itself, Deadshot fired a millisecond earlier than I anticipated.

The bullet missed my head by a good two feet as it sliced through the material of my Kevlar enforced suit, missing anything vital as it seared through the flesh of my side.

"You missed," I leapt at him, pinning the gun hand down as my left knee landed on his midsection.

"I never… miss," he managed.

"You know what they say… Never say—."

^V^

I was too late.

I had raced from the Bowery to Antoli's penthouse in less than ten minutes and it still hadn't been fast enough.

Oracle had not asked me to check it out; she had ordered me, "Help him, Tim."

"Nightwing!" I called out as I leapt from the roof of the neighboring apartment complex onto that which Oracle had called me to. Apparently, when the conflict began she had tried to get Nigthwing to respond and after eight minutes of silence, she feared the worst.

The slush wrecked my landing and I nearly fell as I skidded to a stop before racing over to his side. The struggle between him and the assassin Floyd Lawton had left a chaos of footprints in the damp snow, and there were tracks leading off towards the northern part of the roof, but right then I could have cared less.

He was sprawled out on his back, a small pool of blood had seeped into the snow and I spotted the flesh wound that had been the source. His lower jaw and his right cheek sported fresh contusions and his icy eyes were closed beneath his mask.

"Nightwing?" I asked as I knelt beside him, instantly reaching to feel for a pulse at his carotid.

His head lolled slightly before his eyes fluttered open, "What took you so long?"

I jumped in surprise and growled, "Jesus, Dick…"

He coughed, winced then said, "Had you going there for a minute, didn't I?"

As I leaned over to examine the wound on his side, I replied, "Generally when Deadshot is involved in something, whatever he shoots is dead. Hence the name."

"Such is the case with poor Tony, but alas he left me breathing," another cough escaped him and he added, "Sort of."

"This the only gunshot wound?" I asked a little harsher than I had intended.

"Yeah… It's only a flesh wound," he tempted a British accent and when I glared at him he continued, "He hit me with something, fast-acting sedative, I felt the prick in my leg and then the next thing I knew I was laying here making a snow angel."

"Why didn't he kill you?" I asked quietly.

"Probably figured it would piss B… you off… And he's getting up there in years, can't take on the pissed off Bat like he used to…"

I retrieved a pad of gauze from my utility belt and pressed it on his side, "Hold it."

"Yes, sir," he put his hand over it and then looked up at me, "I'll be fine. Once I can feel my feet again, I'll head up and have Al sew me back together."

"Are you sure?" I asked as I sprayed a diluting chemical over the blood that belonged to Nightwing, rendering it useless for forensic analysis.

He nodded and tried to sit up, using his free hand to push himself up. He slipped; nearly fell back down before I got an arm around his shoulder. As I aided him to his feet, I made out the cry of sirens as they approached down below. I suggested that we not be around when the officers made their way up to secure the perimeter and he smirked, "You're full of good ideas tonight."

Once we were moving, he was able to gain his bearings and shot his own line to an adjacent building to anchor his descent to the ground. I followed him, keeping an eye out for GCPD as we reached the pavement. Nightwing stumbled forward, caught himself on the brick wall of an apartment building and when reached to help him he shrugged, "S'all right. Just need to sit down for a bit more."

I had already called for the Batmobile and it promptly rolled up in front of us on autopilot. I asked him where he had parked his bike and he shrugged in response. I let a bit of the stonewall expression I had been sporting crumble and asked with a microscopic smirk, "Do you know anything?"

He didn't answer until he had carefully placed himself into the passenger seat, "I know that by the time we get to the Cave, Alfred will have a stern lecture and a plate of fresh cookies waiting for us."

"I'm sure he will…" I said quietly after settling in myself. As I guided the 'Mobile out of town, I called into Oracle, told her I was taking "the wounded bird" to the Cave and to have Batgirl work on patrols until I got back into the city. Odds were that Deadshot was long gone but there was no loss in trying to figure his intentions out. Oracle then volunteered to get to work on looking for flights leaving any of Gotham's airfields for his aliases.

My next call was to Alfred.

He picked up on the private line after a ring and a half, his voice already tense and worried, "Yes?"

"Alfred, we're on our way. Dick's going to need a few stitches and a tox screen."

"Has he been poisoned?"

"No, sedated, but I just want to be sure."

"Very well, sir, I shall be waiting for your arrival," he finished before hanging up. I had wanted to ask him not to wake Bruce but decided that Alfred would act as he wished, my orders notwithstanding.

The ride to Bristol was quick, silent and dark. By the time we had arrived, Dick had removed his mask and gloves and had begun to fidget in the seat beside me. As we rolled into the Cave, he snickered quietly, "We there yet?"

"Shut up," I growled.

He laughed a little, winced, and settled on a deep sigh.

Alfred approached from the medical bay as soon as I pulled up and I was surprised to see that he was alone. To Dick's protesting claims that he could walk on he own, we guided him to the medical bay and I watched silently as Alfred removed the sodden tunic, cleaned and sutured the wound in less than fifteen minutes. As soon as Dick had laid out on the gurney he had fallen asleep, snoring slightly.

I took the opportunity to tell Alfred the little we knew that had transpired and told him to run a thorough blood screen in order to make sure Deadshot hadn't injected him with anything else.

As he went about drawing blood from Dick's limp arm, a tone sounded in my ear and I then heard Barbara's voice, "Andrew Flawton just left on a 747 to Paris… Meaning Deadshot is also on his way to a nice Parisian getaway. I've already tipped the police and Interpol. Cass just checked in, said there was nothing really valuable at the crime scene and that forensics is still picking it apart."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Anytime. How's Bull's Eye?" her voice was light and it was hard to tell how worried she really was.

"Stitched, sleeping and snoring. He's going to wake up all the bats…"

She laughed, "Don't let him drive back, I'll pick him up in the morning."

I stepped aside as Alfred briskly walked to the laboratory, two vials of blood in his hand.

When my eyes returned to Dick's form, I offered, "Don't worry about it. I can stay, I'll bring him down in the morning."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's Saturday so I have nothing planned… Just tell Cass for me, all right?"

She said she would and then after a beat, she thanked me again, this time the sincerity in her voice coming through loud and clear.

^V^

At half past six, I snapped awake, raced to the bathroom and took my temperature, grinning when it was a degree and a half above normal. Thinking of the results of the test I had taken the night before showing I was prime for ovulation, I then promptly raced back into the bedroom, disrobing with each step, and crawled on top of a still slumbering Bruce. When he jerked awake and looked up at me, lost in his confusion, I kissed him on the lips forcefully before practically growling, my hands tugging his pajama bottoms down, "Let's go."

He grimaced slightly in response and said, "How romantic… Most wives wake their husbands by saying 'Good morning, dear.'." I then asked him how he knew this and he quickly responded by wrapping his arms around me, "Well, time is a wastin'."

Eleven minutes later, I kissed Bruce's cheek as he tried to catch his breath. I moved on and kissed the pulse throbbing at his neck and he growled slightly. As I finally kissed him on the lips, he let out a deep sigh.

Letting my weight rest on my forearms, I lifted my head and looked down at him, "Good morning."

"It is now," he snickered before kissing the skin beside my ear.

It took a month after our final decision for Bruce and I to actually commit to trying to conceive. We both earned a clear bill of reproductive health in our respective physical exams and were certainly doing our best to keep up with one another in bed. After a month of no results, I had taken to luetenizing hormone testing to better pin down optimal conception windows.

Still nothing.

We had a meeting with an obstetrician that I had taken to seeing and Bruce and I sat through a torturous mini-lecture about the conflicts of conception in those over the age of forty. She even said that it may take even as long as six months just to even reach a level where conception would be possible, of which Bruce's eyes had nearly jumped from their sockets.

As we started our third month of efforts, we had gone to using a calendar designed by my obstetrician to outline when to have and when to avoid intercourse. When I brought it home from my doctor's appointment Bruce grumbled that we had no problems conceiving Mattie in our random, sporadic evenings together. I had walked up to him, kissed his cheek before patting the front of his trousers with the calendar, "Aging causes rusting, darling."

The look on his face had me laughing well into the evening.

I slipped out of bed; reached for the robe I had discarded the night before and donned it before walking to the bay windows. As I pulled back the black out drapes, my lips formed into a smile to see a fresh coating of snow on the trees. Searching quickly, I found the snowman that Mattie and Bruce had built the afternoon before; the blue scarf they had decorated it with was barely visible.

"Plan on getting out of bed today?" I asked without looking back at him.

He took a moment to reply, "Nope."

I looked over my shoulder to see him sprawling across the bed, the only part of him truly visible was his one bare leg sneaking out from under the blankets. "Why is that?"

"No need. Going to start out the day in bed, end the day in bed, might as well stay in bed."

"Good try. You just don't want to chaperone the party."

"I didn't say that," he spoke quietly as he sat up, pushing aside the blankets before standing.

Being the dutiful parent, I had volunteered Bruce and myself to help out at the first grade Winter Celebration party at the school later that afternoon. Although he had been reluctant at first, he eventually warmed up to the idea of being able to scout out future love interests of our daughter and so that he could instill the fear of God into them at a younger age. I had overheard him and Dick one afternoon scheming as to how Bruce would accomplish this task and simply shook my head at them.

When Bruce asked what was wrong, I sighed and said, "You can take the man out of the dark, loathing vigilante but you can't take the dark, loathing vigilante out of the man…"

Dick had laughed so hard he had choked on his coffee but Bruce had simply glared at me. I had been tempted to drop a grumpy old man comment but contented myself with a quick smile of victory.

Similar to the one I was sporting on my face just then, watching a bare bottomed Bruce walk towards the bathroom.

Letting him have the shower first, I left to check to see if Mattie was still asleep. She was, balled up under her comforter with Taffy sleeping next to her on the pillow. I allowed myself to watch her for a moment longer before deciding to leave in search of fresh coffee. As I quickly made my way down the stairs, my eyes caught movement in the hall of the second floor. When I looked again, I noticed it was Alfred, carrying a tray and walking towards the room Dick had called home for years…

"Alfred?" I asked softly.

If I had caught him off guard, he showed no sign of it as he paused, turned and greeted me, "Ah, good morning, Ms. Selina."

"Good morning," I replied, stepping towards him. Looking over the tray, I was surprised to see a teapot, two cups and saucers and a small glass of water beside a bottle of blue tablets.

Before I could say a word, he offered an explanation, "Master Dick was… injured last night… nothing grave however."

I bit my lip before asking how he had been injured and if Bruce knew about it. He paused; lead the way towards Dick's bedroom door, "A mishap with Mr. Floyd Lawton. Minor bullet graze to his side, only required a dozen stitches but he and Master Tim came in quite late… And with neither in eminent danger I felt it was best to wait to inform Master Bruce this morning."

I opened the door for him and he thanked me with a curt nod. As he crossed the room and set the tray on a bedside table, I followed and proceeded to turn on one of the standing lamps, offering some illumination.

The only part of Dick that was visible was his arm; the rest of him was underneath the blankets and the pillow his arm was holding down on his face. As Alfred retrieved two tablets from the bottle, Dick moaned from under the covers and mumbled, "Too early Alfred…"

As I sat on the bed, I patted my hand on his exposed hand, "Poor baby… Can't even smother yourself right."

I was grinning as he pulled the pillow off of his head and stared up at me through heavy eyelids. A nasty bruise had formed from his chin up across his cheek and temple. As much fun as it was to torment him about his injuries, it was a little too early in the morning for me.

"So," I began, "How did the other guy end up?"

Dick snickered and slowly pushed himself up to sit in bed, "Nothing left of him, lemme tell you, I gave him a run for his money…" he paused, picked at a scab on his arm and added, "And by that I mean he kicked my ass and ran off with his contract money."

"Oh, don't beat yourself up, Dick," I tilted my head slightly before standing up, thinking that maybe it wasn't too early after all, "Deadshot already beat you up enough."

Leaving Alfred to check over his patient, I decided to grab two mugs of coffee from the kitchen before heading back up to the bedroom. It seemed to me that it would have been an easy enough task had I not run into another random but welcome face in the kitchen.

Tim was pouring a teaspoon of sugar into a mug of coffee and when my bare foot made contact with the tiled floor, he looked up and offered a slight nod, "Morning."

"Must have been some party last night. Shame I wasn't invited."

He snickered a bit before stirring the coffee, "Is Bruce up? Wanted to talk to him before heading back into town with Dick."

"He's showering. When I go back up I'll send him down."

"Thanks." He stepped aside as I approached and watched quietly as I poured coffee into two mugs. As I added sugar to mine, he asked, "Any, uh… luck yet? With the…"

When I glanced up a slight blush had sprouted in his cheeks. I recalled having dinner with Dick and Barbara a week earlier, talking with Barbara openly about our attempts to get pregnant and seeing Dick and Bruce's expressions begging for a change in subject.

Men…

I shook my head, "Not for a lack of trying though. Soon, we hope," I paused before asking if he had been injured the night before.

He took a slow sip before replying, "No, Nightwing had found Deadshot… Confronted him and was injured and then drugged before I even got to the scene. He's fine though."

"Yeah, Alfred was telling me that it wasn't much."

Tim nodded, the expression on his face changing slightly, "Yeah, nothing."

"Well," I took the coffee into one hand, "I better get this up to him. I'll have him head down in a few."

"Thanks."

By the time I returned to the master bedroom, Alfred was nowhere in sight, Mattie was still fast asleep and Bruce was standing at the bathroom counter shaving. After I told him coffee was on the dresser, he mumbled his thanks as he wiped one side of his face clean. I didn't say anything else until I was in the shower, the door clouding out my view of Bruce, "So Dick and Tim are here."

He paused, no doubt glancing through the open bathroom door at the alarm clock.

Another moment passed before he asked, "Why?"

I sudsed up the loofah before saying, "Guess they just crashed here last night. Tim wanted to talk to you, though, before they head back."

"Damn," he muttered suddenly.

"What?"

"Nothing… Nicked myself." He finished shaving in record time, left, dressed, popped his head back in quick to say he was heading down and that he would meet me for breakfast in the nook.

I laughed to myself, thinking that once Bruce was set on something, there was no stopping him.

^V^

Just as I sat up in bed, I saw Dad walk by my room. I hopped out of bed and followed after him towards the stairs, leaving my slippers behind. I tried to be as quiet as possible so I could sneak up on him and hug him.

But Taffy blew my cover.

She had been sleeping on my bed with me and when I had gotten up she had woken as well. Instead of following along quietly behind me, she had paused at my bedroom door and mewed softly.

Dad glanced over his shoulder and spotted me. At first his face was serious, like it was when he read the newspaper, but then he smiled slightly and said, "Good morning, kitten."

I trotted over and hugged his legs, "Morning, Dad."

When I let him go, he glanced down the hall quick, then at the stairs before looking down at me. "Why don't you get changed for breakfast, okay?"

"Okay," I said, "Is Mom awake?"

He nodded before answering, "She's showering. You can come down with her if you want."

"Okay," I said again before turning back towards my room. Taffy was waiting at the door and when I walked through, she trotted by and leapt up onto the bed. "No, Taff, it's time to wake up." I pulled up my covers, burying the cat under them and laughed when she fought her way out. As her calico head appeared at the top of the bed, I laughed again, this time at her short hair sticking up chaotically.

After I changed into the jeans and red turtleneck that was set out on my dresser, I brushed my hair and then brushed Taffy's. As I began combing Taffy's tail, I heard Mom's voice from the doorway, "You going to brush Isis too?"

I nodded, "Yep," then slid off the bed and ran towards her, "Dad said I could go downstairs with you."

"I bet he did. You ready for this afternoon?"

I nodded as we walked towards the stairs, "Yep yep. Are you and Dad really going to stay the whole time?"

"Of course we are," she smiled down at me before reaching over and tickling my shoulder softly, "And we'll have lots of fun."

Taking two steps at a time like Dick taught me, I waited until we were at the second floor before I asked, "Do you think he will have fun?"

She took a moment before answering, of which I knew meant she wasn't sure. Even still Mom said, "We'll have to make sure he has fun, won't we."

"Yep, we will."

As we walked down the hall towards the kitchen, I heard two voices coming from the breakfast nook. When I heard Dad, it didn't surprise me. But when I heard Tim, I let go of Mom's hand and raced through the door, "Tim!"

He and Dad were seated at the table, both with a mug of coffee in their hands and a strange look on their faces. Tim smiled when he saw me and laughed when I crawled up onto his lap, "What are you doing up?"

I looked into his eyes and sighed, "It's morning, Tim, you're supposed to be awake now. What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, "Oh just figured I would drop by see how everyone is."

"Have you moved into the new house yet?" I asked. I spotted Mom out of the corner of my eye and turned my head to see her kiss Dad on the cheek as she moved to sit next to him.

"Not quite. Cass and I are going to work on it most of this week and next weekend, actually."

"Can I come help?"

He smiled at me before looking over at my parents, "If your Mom and Dad says it's okay, sure."

My head shot towards them and I pleaded, "Please, can I?"

Mom shook her head, "Sounds like a plan to me." When I looked over at Dad he nodded and went about opening his newspaper.

Tim tickled his fingers over my lower back, "You can help us arrange furniture. How does that sound?"

"Good," I smiled at him.

He gently pushed me off of his lap as he said, "I actually have to get going, hate for Cass to think I abandoned her," he touched my shoulder briefly before looking over at Dad, "I'll talk to you later tonight then."

Dad nodded, his face still caught up in that strange look he had when he came home from work, "Okay."

Tim said good-bye to Mom and then went to go find Alfred before heading out. I took Tim's seat at the breakfast table and Mom disappeared for a bit before returning with slices of oranges, clusters of grapes and peeled bananas with a small bowl of peanut butter in one hand and two glasses of cranberry juice in the other.

After eating a few orange slices, I was tired of hearing silence. I wiped my mouth and asked, "Can we go see Rusty today, before the party? I want to hang his stocking on his stall door." At school we had all decorated gift stocking and I had done one for both of the cats and Rusty.

Mom finished chewing before answering, "Sure. We'll have to bring him some treats."

"He does like peppermints," I nodded and went about plucking grapes off one at a time, lining them up in a row on my plate.

It was quiet for another minute, of which I spent staring at Dad as he read the paper. His coffee mug was practically full and I couldn't see any steam coming from it. Maybe it was too cold, that's why he wasn't drinking it…

He went to turn the page and caught me staring at him, offered me a quick smile before folding the paper and setting it down. Dad then eyed my grapes and asked me, "How many grapes do you have?"

I looked down and counted silently and answered, "Eight."

"Is that an even or an odd number?"

I smiled, and said, "Even."

Dad often made time to ask me silly questions when we were together eating or playing or even reading. I thought it was fun, because I could show him what I was learning in school. I heard Mom tell Alfred once that he did it just to see if my schooling was not as helpful as it would be in a private school.

I just thought he was silly.

"What if," he reached over and took three grapes into his hand, "I took away three… How many would you have?"

Without counting the remaining grapes, I replied, "Five."

"Odd or even?"

I thought for a second then said, "Odd."

"Very good."

He asked a few more questions and then Mom cleared her throat. He paused, and then said, "You finish up here, and I'll get the car warmed up."

As he left I said, "I wish Rusty could come to the party. I could dress him up as a reindeer."

Mom smiled as she asked, "Rusty the Red Nosed Reindeer?"

As I laughed, she stood and went about picking up the dishes before taking them to the kitchen. I followed her, carrying our empty juice glasses. Alfred was at the sink, washing a few teacups, and when he spotted us, he smiled warmly, "Good morning again, Ms. Selina, and to you Miss Mattie. Are you excited about this afternoon's gala?"

"Gala?" I asked.

"The party, Miss Mattie. Events such as those are often referred to as galas." I repeated the word to myself a few times before asking if he wanted to come. He shook his head as he took the dirty dishes from Mom, "I am afraid I have quite a bit to do here, this afternoon. But I do hope that you and your parents have a splendid time."

I knew we would as I pictured Dad sitting at the craft table with Mom all afternoon. I then giggled before adding, "Hopefully Dad doesn't spill the glitter paint on his shirt though. We'll have to make sure he has an apron on."

^V^

Entering the red, green and silver decorated cafeteria or the Bristol Elementary School, I knew I would have been safer waltzing into the Arkham Asylum day room without a utility belt.

We had spent a good deal of the morning at the riding stable, watching Mattie brush Rusty before hanging the Christmas stocking on his wrought iron stall door. We had set her back to only one riding lesson a week and only two or three additional trips to see her pony. In addition to her equestrian activities, she had wanted to be enrolled in the after school swim team. Since Selina and I had started her swimming at a young age, she was already well past her peers and had been bumped up into the intermediate level. She had also wanted to start up indoor soccer but I was uneasy about her doing too much. Her asthma was under control at that point but there was no reason to test the limits.

As she brushed and kissed and talked to her pony, Selina and I shared a mug of hot cocoa in the lounge. Apparently when she had gone downstairs earlier that morning, she had run into Alfred and had discovered Dick and Tim's surprising presence.

I had found Tim in the breakfast nook, sitting silently at the table staring at the front page of the Gotham Gazette, a photograph of detectives and officers standing at the entrance of the late Marc Antoli's apartment building. I sat down as he looked up, offered a small nod instead of actually asking how it had gone down the night before. He pushed the paper towards me and briefly explained how Dick had happened upon the hit and then attempted to apprehend Deadshot. And how he had been not only shot but drugged as well. The look on his face broadcasted his own disappointment, but I was unsure as to whether it was because he had not been able capture Lawton or because Dick had been injured.

Floyd Lawton had been in quasi-retirement for some time but I had not been all too surprised to see his metallic face surfacing, especially on a small time hit like Antoli. There was no doubt that one of the other crime syndicates had wanted the job done quick and quietly.

I wanted to tell him he should have leaned on the enforcers and the bosses themselves the night before, work on closing it right away. I couldn't though, because we were at my breakfast table and my daughter was most likely on her way down. And I was no longer Batman. And he had taken the wiser course, caring for an injured teammate instead of taking it out on thugs.

Instead, I told him to make sure Dick took the next couple nights off and to inform the JLA that Deadshot was back in the game.

Before he could say anything else, Mattie had walked in, grinning and calling out his name. As she jumped onto his lap, Selina had taken the seat next to me, her hand gently grazing my shoulder as she sat. I was marginally upset that she hadn't told me why they were there, but she put me at ease with a hand on my thigh, her tailored nails clawing at my skin. A year earlier, she would have locked her grip around my kneecap…

For the most part, my recovery was going well. Down to only bi-weekly physical therapy sessions, I was no longer using the cane and had even taking to light jogging on the treadmill for five minutes at a time. There had been a slight scare just before Thanksgiving when I had strained the plantaris muscle of my left leg, which had nearly readjusted the patellar prosthesis. A few days of rest and an afternoon with Dr. Reynolds had put things back in order, luckily without a scalpel, but with a good deal of poking and prodding

"Bruce?" I turned to look at Selina in the passenger seat as she set her hand on my arm,

"Ready?"

I looked back out the windshield to see the school sprawling out before the hood of the car. As my eyes rose the rear view mirror, I saw Mattie practically exploding with energy in the back seat. After a deep breath, I unbuckled my seat belt and said, "I guess it's now or never."

"Now!" Mattie laughed as she unbelted and opened her door.

She skipped as she led the way to the main entrance; Selina and I trailed behind, her hand woven with mine. I had been dreading an afternoon with Mattie's schoolmates and holiday music while Selina had been looking forward to it. Our attempted at conception had brought out a whole new energy in her, one of which I was still getting used to. She spent longer hours at the Preserve, visited with Barbara on a near daily basis, rode with Mattie, drank tea with Alfred, helped Tim and Cass with their townhouse and still found the patience and energy to spend her evenings with me, in town for dinner or bundled up in bed.

I snuck a glance down at her and smiled. An amazing woman…

As we passed into the school's atrium, I felt a slight shiver travel down my spine at the change in temperature. I unzipped my leather coat as we took a right down the hall towards the cafeteria. The sounds of laughing children and holiday cheer wafted quietly towards us. It wasn't until I felt Selina's hand tug on mine that I realized I had stopped.

"Come on, dear," she smiled back at me, "I'll protect you from the bullies."

I rolled my eyes, muttered that I could take care of myself.

Entering the expanse of the dining area, I was surprised to see only a few children chasing each other about as their parents set up various tables strategically placed in the corners of the room. Most of the floor space was empty, and as I spotted a small stereo system set up, I realized it was to be the interim dance floor. Excellent.

Mattie instantly dashed over to a cluster of children, laughing already at the mere sight of them. I had wanted to call after her not to run with her shoes being wet from walking outside, but another voice cut in, "Bruce, Selina, so glad you made it."

We turned to see Mattie's first grade teacher, Mr. Hayden, approaching us, sporting pleated khakis and a red polo shirt. He was a very soft-spoken man with graying hair and tired hazel eyes, belying his thirty-six years. With his unique humor and clever teaching style, Mattie had quickly labeled him "the best teacher I've ever had!"

I shook his hand softly as he paused in front of us, "Arnold," I nodded, recalling his loathing for being formally referred to. When we had first met, he said, "I even wish the kids didn't have to call me mister."

Selina spoke, "So, where would you like us to get started?"

He pointed to a set of tables at the far end of the room, cardboard boxes sitting beside them, "That will be our craft activity center. All of the materials are in the boxes, so you can just unpack them and set it up however you like. If you need anything, just let me know. The rest of the kids should be showing up in the next fifteen minutes or so."

"Sounds great," Selina smiled then looked at me, "Shall we?"

"Let's," I replied, doing my best to feign excitement.

We barely unpacked the various cartons of colored paper, crayons, markers, paint cups and brushes, glue bottles and safety scissors before the attendance doubled in the room. Luckily, the other tables had gingerbread house making, stocking stuffing and board games, of which would act as the highlights for the afternoon.

Selina and I sat alone at the "coloring table". I watched on as she carefully detailed a picture of a snowman with colored pencils, humming softly with the music from the next table over. Legs crossed, she had taken to bobbing the top leg rhythmically, her toe coming into contact with my shin softly every time. I put a hand on her leg after a while and she stopped.

"Sorry, too much holiday cheer," she smiled before selecting an orange pencil to color the carrot nose. Selina tapped on the colorless drawing of Christmas carolers that she had set before me earlier, "Why aren't you working on this?"

"Saving it for later. When the boredom threatens to over take me."

"Ah," she replied.

As she returned to coloring, I went back to observing the class of first graders as they went from one table to the next, but none of them showing any interest in the one I was in charge of. I wondered if it was because of the lack of artistic interest or if it was my presence. I spotted Mattie at the gingerbread table, constructing a house with Katrina and a dark haired boy I didn't recognize. He had pale blue eyes and a quirky little smile that made me think of Dick as a mischievous six-year-old.

As they started to decorate the house with countless candies and dollops of icing, Mattie caught me watching and waved. She turned, spoke to Katrina and then hopped off of her chair before walking towards us; her hands cupped together, the dark haired boy following her.

Selina looked up as they neared, "What have you got there, Mattie?"

"Gum drops," she smiled as she came over to me. She told me to hold out my hand and when I did she dropped a cluster of green gumdrops into my hand, forcing a true smile on my lips. "I saved them for you, Dad."

"Thank you, kitten." Her two handfuls of candy had barely filled my palm.

As I set them on the piece of paper in front of me, I heard Selina ask, "You having fun Terry?"

I looked up to see the young boy nod, his smile still in place. Thinking back to the horrid zoo trip and the even more scarring birthday party, I realized he had been to neither. And without being able to attend the open house and the Halloween party, I had yet to see him at any school function.

Selina must have caught on and she touched my arm, "Bruce, this is Terry Miller, he just moved here from Ohio."

"Hi there," I tried a soft smile, "I'm Bruce, Mattie's dad."

He smiled back and whispered a quiet "Hello".

Before I could ask anything about him, Mattie grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards the gingerbread table, "Come on Terry, we have to finish the roof."

Selina sighed softly before leaning against my shoulder, "Aren't they cute?"

"Cute," I muttered.

"He was a prince at the Halloween party, I wish I had been able to get pictures of them together. Would have been adorable."

My eyes followed them as they sat back together at the table and took turns drawing on the gingerbread house with icing.

She caught me staring and swatted at my arm, "Oh stop it."

"Stop what?" I asked.

"Stop thinking that an innocent little boy is your arch nemesis. And start coloring your picture." She paused for a moment before adding, "And give me some of those gum drops. I need to boost my energy for later tonight."

^V^

"When were they coming?"

Tim and I were camped out on the couch, of which was sitting directly in the middle of the den, eating toasted bagels and drinking mocha frappuccinos from the coffee shop down the street. The goal for the day was to finish the ground floor seeing how through most of the week we had managed to set up the upstairs.

He swallowed the last of his bagel, wiped cream cheese from his lip before replying, "Selina said her doctor's appointment was at ten-thirty so they'd be dropping Mattie off around ten."

I glanced at my watch to see that left thirty minutes before they arrived.

I smiled, "Dick was coming back tonight, right?"

Another shrug, "As far as I know. His week of forced recuperation time is over and I doubt he can last any longer being stuck at home." He stood and collected the wrappers from our breakfast and the paper bag he had picked them up in and tossed them into a garbage bag in the back of the room. He had started to unpack earlier that morning and had used the bag to toss out the newspapers we had used to wrap fragile dishware in.

I ran upstairs after finishing my own bagel and changed out of my pajama pants and into jogging pants and threw a sweatshirt on over my tank top. After running a comb through my hair, I jogged downstairs just in time to hear the doorbell ring. "I'll get it," I called out, not exactly sure where Tim ended up.

Opening the door, the first face I spotted was Mattie's before she plowed through and wrapped her arms around my legs, "Cassie!" her backpack bouncing on her shoulders.

"Hey there," I managed before looking up and out the doorway to see Selina standing alone.

When I asked her if she wanted to come in, she glanced back at the car parked out front and answered, "Wish I could but we have to run. We'll be back around noon or so to pick her up. Thanks again for taking her."

"No problem." I watched as she turned and walked across the sidewalk to the car. Bruce was behind the wheel and I was tempted to wave at him. Instead I watched as she got in and they drove off.

It didn't take much to figure out what a doctor's appointment truly meant. When I had found out that they were trying to have another child together, I was a little surprised at first. But then, the more I thought about it, I realized that with Bruce's newly acquired free time and health… It truly made sense.

After closing the door, I turned around to see Mattie was already in the living room, sitting on the couch. Or rather sitting on Tim's lap as he sat on the couch. I joined them, doing my best to not laugh at the sight before me. The man who struck fear into the hearts of criminals was tickling the arms of a six-year-old curly haired child.

"You going to move furniture for us, kid?" he asked her.

"No, I'm too little. You have to move it."

"Why me? He asked.

She shrugged, "Because you're a boy. One time, Mom wanted to move furniture in her room and she made Dad move it. Then she didn't like it that way so she made him move it all back."

I smirked, even without picturing it in my mind; I knew it must have been a sight to see.

"So where do we start?" he asked the both of us.

I shrugged, "What do you think?"

Mattie shrugged as well.

Such a decisive bunch.

Since we were already in the living room, we decided to start there. Tim did take over the role as "furniture mover boy" as Mattie and I directed his actions. It took less than an hour to get everything pretty much set, afterwards Tim decided he was going to work on setting up the entertainment system, of which I was sure he wouldn't let either Mattie or myself assist in anyway.

There wasn't much to do yet in the townhouse, but I knew of one thing for sure Mattie would get a kick out of.

Literally.

Luckily, she had brought a change of clothes for the day, tiny blue sweatpants and a matching tee shirt. After she switched clothes in the downstairs bathroom, I lead the way to the basement, of which Tim and I had gladly taken care of before the rest of the house. Mattie toured about, looking at the gym equipment before making her way to the training mats. She then cried out, "Look at me, Cass, look what I can do!"

"Okay," I smiled as I watched her.

She stepped onto the mats and then threw her hands into the air before performing a near perfect cartwheel, landing back on her feet with a grin on her face. I walked over and said, "That looked great." She asked if I could do one and I nodded. The first cartwheel was with two hands, the second was with one and by the time I preferred the third consecutive one, I had enough momentum to perform a handless cartwheel.

"When did you learn to do that?!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder.

I shrugged, "A long time ago. I was actually younger than you."

"Can you teach me?" I asked.

"I can teach you some things to do, but you have to work and practice hard to do the special things."

She nodded, her excitement barely contained.

We spent the next hour and a half together, moving from basic gymnastic movements into general martial arts stances. I had to say; she took to it so naturally I began to wonder if Bruce had already started working with her. Her natural agility and balance was impressive, but then again, the same had been true for both of her parents.

Shortly before noon we made our way back upstairs and I sent her to wash up and change. I found Tim sleeping on the couch, the tail end of one of his Monty Python movies. The sight of people singing merrily while being crucified signified it was the Life of Brian.

Having seen the film dozens of times, I pictured my favorite scene and said, "Jehovah."

His left eye opened and he smiled before mumbling, "You're lucky I only have a pillow to hit you with instead of a rock."

I laughed, "Any word from the parental units?"

He nodded, "They called ten minutes ago. On their way, said they're going to take Mattie out to lunch so don't feed her."

"Okay."

He patted a spot on the couch next to him and after I sat down he asked, "You two have fun downstairs?"

I nodded before summarizing our activities. I then added, "She ought to be tired out."

"I guess so. How I ever survived your training I'll never know."

Before I could respond, the doorbell rang for the second time that morning. I patted his chest and told him to get the door and that I would get Mattie. He sighed and slowly got off of the couch and shuffled to the front door.

"Ready, Mattie?" I called out.

The bathroom door opened and she emerged changed back into her flared khaki pants and midnight blue blouse. She had even brushed her hair and pulled her bangs back with a pair of barrettes. She smiled up at me before asking, "Cassie, can we do that again sometime?"

I nodded, "Anytime."

"I think it should be a secret though. I don't think Dad would like it."

"No?"

She nodded, "It can be our secret club. I have a whole bunch of them at school."

"Sounds good to me," I smiled back and lead the way to the front of the house. Bruce stood in the atrium, looking over the recently varnished staircase railing while Tim was showing Selina how they had ended setting up the living room. At the first sight of her parents, Mattie giggled and trotted towards them.

Bruce bent at his waist, picking her up effortlessly before holding her in his arms, "Did you have fun?"

She looked over at me, winked and then faced him again, "Yep."

Confused about the exchange, he looked over at me, then to Tim and then finally to Selina. None of us offering an explanation, he sighed and let Mattie back down to the floor. He nodded at Tim as he took one last look around. I translated the man-ese perfectly: You've done a wonderful job restoring this townhouse; I must commend you on your efforts.

Selina thanked us again for watching her for the morning as we all walked to the front door. I wanted to ask how things had gone but felt it wasn't my place. That and if things hadn't gone as planned, I would have hated to bring it up.

Apparently, Tim didn't feel the same, for as he opened the door, he asked, "So, how did it go at the doctor's?"

Both Bruce and Selina paused mid-stride and turned to face him. Mattie, who had latched her hand onto her father's looked up and asked, "Are you sick again, Dad?"

He shook his head as he looked down at her. Selina smiled at her and said, "No, Mattie, we went to the doctor for me, not for Dad."

"Are you sick?"

There was a brief silence, long enough for Bruce to shift his weight from leg to the other, for Tim to clear his throat, for Selina to fiddle with the snap on her purse and for me to wish to be anywhere else in the world instead of then and there.

A wish I quickly revoked when I saw the grin spread over Selina's face.

^V^


	4. What Lies Ahead: IV

Title: What Lies Ahead: IV

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: Riddle me this…

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: The Comrade Wayne line is from the 1966 film "Batman: The Movie"

^V^

"Some office help you are."

Looking down at my feet, I smiled at the brindled mass of fur and muscle. Frank's upright ears flopped to the side as his flews wavered with each slumbering breath he took. He raised the lid on the left eye, grunted, then went back to sleep.

I came into the office a little after nine to catch up on some filing and busywork that had been neglected recently. There would be a good two hours before Dick would walk through the front door, half-asleep and in need of three more coffees before reaching a functional level. I didn't mind in the least, not only because he was spending his nights protecting our city, but also because he was now my future son-in-law.

Honestly, I had been a bit taken aback when he had asked permission to propose to Barbara. Having seen them head over heels in love and ready to wring each other's necks, it had always been a question of mine if they would ever settle down. But even as a betrothed couple, they bickered and fought just as easily as the flirted and held hands.

And even with his life as a husband-to-be and vigilante, he was still one hundred percent involved with our business. Often times I arrived before him but it was a regular sight for him to be at his desk after closing, skimming blueprints for optimal camera placement or alarm sensors. He often joked that we had fallen through the cracks of the police world and landed in leather office chairs, but we still did our fair share of beat work. We had managed to keep tabs on the twenty clients we had acquired with no trouble, up until a month ago. Unfortunately, a recent string of downtown vandalisms had upped our total list of patrons by two-dozen, making our lives a bit more hectic than necessary.

After all, who better to run your security than the former Commissioner of Police and the squire of the Dark Knight.

The former Dark Knight…

I had seen Bruce a few dozen times since Christmas, only a handful of which had been in person. The media rejoiced over his slowly increasing public appearances, once more having his name and picture emblazoned on the society and business pages alike. Luckily, news of Selina's pregnancy was still inside the family, so to speak, and would hopefully stay that way.

Damned nosy reporters.

The glass door that acted as the entrance of our suite from the lobby area opened and I looked up from Frank's grumbling form to see Dick, dressed in dark jeans, a leather coat sprinkled with snow over his burgundy sweater. The small bell on the door chimed as it closed and Frank leapt to his stumpy feet and proceeded to race over to the new arrival, grumbling and snorting as his stubby tail wagged.

I stood as Dick bent down, snatching up the small dog in one arm, "Hey big fella, ought to breed Frenchies, sell them as guard dogs," he said while roughing the dog's hair up on his scruff. Frank fought back valiantly with a lapping tongue across Dick's cheek. After setting the over-excited dog down, Dick looked up and smirked, "Hey, I made it in before ten for a change. Do I get a raise, boss?"

Shaking my head, I sat on the corner of my desk, a practice I had sorely missed from my days at GCPD. I watched Frank bounce on his hind legs, leaping higher than a dog his height or weight should ever be able to reach.

"To what do I owe the honor of your lack of tardiness?"

Dog bouncing at his heels, Dick removed his coat, hung it on the rack by the door and then proceeded to walk over, "Had to be up early anyway… Barbara wanted to pick out the date this morning. We narrowed it down to five last week and she wanted both of us to write out why we wanted one particular date."

"How did that go?"

He took a seat at his desk and went about booting up his computer, "I wrote all the dates on little pieces of paper, put them in a hat and drew out the first one. July tenth, if you're free, you can come."

"I might be able to fit it in," I laughed softly before returning to my own desk. I had always tried to keep myself focused on my work, but somehow whenever Dick was around, the need to be serious dropped considerably.

"Well I figure it'll be nice and warm out, flowers will be cheaper, and with Selina due in September, it will prevent any conflict in that, uh, department."

"Good point," I replied as Frank settled on his haunches at my side.

Dick leaned back in his chair, causing it to precariously balance on two of its four wheels. More often then not, I could see his origins in his actions, his acrobatic youth showing through his collected, adult exterior. I did my best to turn my attention back to the end of the week logs I had been working on but I couldn't help but watch him. Hard to think that he was the same mischievous little boy doing handstands on the edge of the roof of police headquarters…

The phone rang suddenly and Dick sat the chair back down before reaching for the phone. He cleared his throat before answering, "DJG Security Consultants… Well, good morning to you, too, Mrs. Grover… Beverley, of course…" he looked over at me and rolled his eyes. Beverley and her husband Arnold had been one of our newest clients, a wealthy retired couple living in the Crandall Apartment Complex just north of Midtown. And both watched enough crime drama television programs to be paranoid for a dozen schizophrenics.

Dick started taking notes as he spoke, "And when did you go for your morning walk… Half past… And were you the only one to witness the incident?… I see… Well, I have an appointment out by the Mariott around one; I would be more than glad to drop by before… Oh, no, Beverley, no… No I would love to go, but I really can't… Bev---…. I honestly appreciate the offer but…"

I listened to him beg off some offer until he finally hung up ten minutes later. When our eyes met, he sighed, "I have a tea date with her and the 'ladies'. Apparently I'm the talk of the morning speed walkers group she belongs to. I guess they witnessed a possible mugging this morning and felt more comfortable talking to me rather than the police."

"How terrible," I muttered.

Dick stood and walked around his desk, his footfalls on the carpeted floor were silent to my ears but Frank's pricked up.

A lapse of thirty silent minutes passed before the bell on the front door chimed. Dick, Frank and I looked up at once to see Bruce Wayne's snow covered form. Frank growled lowly before trotting over, his gait far less enthusiastic than when he had greeted Dick. He paused a few inches from Bruce's tailored pants leg before sniffing the shoe and cuff ever so cautiously. Bruce looked down at the dog briefly before asking, "Should I fear for my life?"

Dick snickered, "Only if you have bacon in your pockets."

Bruce's face remained in that off expression that I had always called half-grimace, half-smirk. It completely hid whatever his true emotions were, and I had seen it at Winter Banquets and hostile takeovers alike. He brushed a few melting flakes of snow from his camel hair coat, "Hope I'm not interrupting."

"Interrupt what? Meaningless paperwork and scalding coffee?" Dick smiled before reaching down and grabbing Frank by his midsection. "Does man's best friend ring a bell, Frank? No eating the big guy." The dog once more attacked Dick with vicious kisses. Still holding him, Dick laughed, "See Bruce, he's a lover not a biter."

Bruce muttered, "Charming," then cast his gaze my way, the corners of his lips twitching upwards ever so slightly.

As I stood and approached him, I managed a slight smile, "Long time no see, stranger."

When I was a yard a way, he offered his hand and I took it, knowing all too well the strength behind it. I'd seen the same hand lift beams, knock out criminals in a single blow and caress the cheek of his daughter. His grip then was firm, his palm much smoother than I remembered.

"Too long," he said softly, a flash of sincerity washing over his icy eyes. As he let go of my hand, I asked what he was up to and he answered, "Was just pasing by, actually. Selina's at her doctor's appointment and I stepped out for a bit… Saw the lights on, figured I would stop in."

"Not playing hooky are you?" Dick asked, his smirk growing.

"No, I believe in an honest day's work."

"Of luncheons and afternoon naps?"

"Of board meetings and division inspections."

Dick paused before saying, "Right… Sorry, it's hard to look past the social butterfly that you truly are."

Before I could interject, Frank took to standing between them and barked, or rather croaked, his opinion on the matter.

I smirked and said, "Frank, if you think this is bad, you should have seen them fighting over Mad Hatter clues fifteen years ago."

^V^

"Honey, I'm home!"

Snuggled under an afghan, I was on the living room sofa when the front door opened to Dick bellowing. I listened quietly as he took off his shoes and coat and stored them away in the coat closet. Then I heard the clatter of keys being placed in the small porcelain bowl on the antique varnished table in the foyer. His stride was slower than usual, the left leg landing slightly behind the right one, which was oddly accompanied with a squishing sound.

I put down my cup of cider and turned to see him walk into the living room, maneuver around the leather chair before sitting beside me, landing hard enough to bounce me slightly.

"Rough day?" I asked as he laid back, letting his head loll backwards.

"You could say that…"

"Dad called on his lunch break, said something about you having tea with Gotham's wealthiest senior women."

He smirked softly before nodding, "As dazzling as their pearl necklaces and bifocal glasses were, they were no match for your dazzling ring," he lifted my hand and kissed the knuckle just below my engagement ring, "And your… single focal glasses."

I smiled at him "Easy there, Casanova."

His hand still holding mine, he asked what I wanted to do for dinner. I yawned before saying, "Funny you should mention that, Selina called a little while ago. Asked what we had planned."

He shifted on the couch to better face me, "And your reply was?"

"Said I didn't know, would call her back when you got home."

He nodded slowly, his face contorting in deep thought, "Well, I believe it would be safe to assume that in honor of this week fast approaching the celebratory period of my year of entering this world---."

"Or more commonly known as the week of your birthday," I butted in.

"Can I finish?" After I nodded silently, he continued, "Is there going to be cake?"

"I believe I heard Selina mention something about raspberry cheesecake."

He licked his lips slowly, "And perhaps some tokens of gratitude for it nearing the celebratory period of…. My birthday."

I squeezed his hand before letting go in order to fold up the afghan. "Go change, I'll call and let them know we'll be up in a while."

Gracefully, he went from a completely reclining position on the couch to standing on his feet in one fluid motion. He leaned over, kissed my cheek and then booked it down the hall to the bedroom. A minute later I heard him singing the Happy Birthday song to himself as he changed. In French.

Still on the couch, I reached to the end table and grabbed the phone. After dialing, I listened to two rings before a quiet voice cut in, "Hello?"

"Mattie?" I asked.

"Barbara!" she laughed.

I had been expecting Alfred's charming voice or Selina's pleasant greeting, or even Bruce's grumble. I knew she wasn't supposed to answer the phone with no one around, so I asked, "Hey kiddo, is your Mom or Dad nearby?"

"Mom's in the shower. She went to the Preserve today to take pictures of the cougar cubs. I got to name one of them."

"Oh, what did you name him?"

"Patrick. He has funny markings on his face, kind of like a star."

"I'll have to see the pictures. Is your Dad around? Or Alfred?"

She was quiet for a second, only her tiny breaths coming over the line. I was about to ask again when she whispered, "Alfred's cooking dinner. I'll get Dad."

Another patch of silence, then the sound of a door opening. I heard a soft grunt of effort before her whisper, "Dad?"

Nothing.

"Dad, Barbara's on the phone."

Silence.

"Dad…" she whined, louder.

I heard a deep sigh and then a rough voice mumble, "What, Mattie?"

"Phone, Dad. It's Barbara."

After the clatter of the phone changing hands, I heard Bruce's voice more clearly,

"Barbara?"

"Sorry, was hoping to catch Selina but Mattie said she was in the shower."

He took a deep breath and replied, "It's all right. I had to get up anyway."

I told him that Selina had invited us up to dinner and that we would be up in a half hour or so. If he had been surprised, he hid it well. Then again, he had perfected the art of hiding his emotions since he was barely older than Mattie…

"I'll tell her," he said quietly.

"Thanks, see you in a while."

He said, "Hm," before hanging up.

Oh, I couldn't wait for the dinner talk.

I let Dick drive us to Bristol and we settled on a modern rock station that I knew was one of his favorites. Since we were northbound, we were able to skirt around the construction dominating the southbound lanes. Ten minutes away from Wayne Manor, Dick pushed the accelerator and when I glanced over, I saw he was going ten miles over the speed limit.

Rough day indeed.

Before I could ask what else had happened that day, he sighed, "Bruce dropped by this morning. To see the office."

"How'd that go?"

He shrugged and turned on his blinker to pass a mini-van, "Fine. I left around ten-thirty and he and your dad were still talking."

"They're both quite the chatterboxes," I smirked, imaging what exactly my father and Bruce would talk about for a few solid hours straight. For some reason the spring training for this year's baseball season didn't seem to be the first choice.

Before the conversation could turn too serious, he snickered, "So, what'd you get me for my birthday?"

"Aside from everlasting love?"

He nodded and glanced over at me, "Yeah aside from that."

For the last month he had been diligently snooping around the Clocktower in search of his birthday gift. Efforts proven futile, he had gone into interrogation instead of investigation, randomly asking about his gift in while sporting that curious smile I loved.

"What's the point in asking when you know I'm not going to tell you?"

He sighed before turning onto the private drive for Wayne Manor, "Shatter a guy's dreams, why don't you."

"Damn straight I will," I did my best to keep from laughing at the pitiful look on his face.

After parking, we made our way to service entrance and then entered the house, the sudden warmth causing my skin to tingle. The aroma of baking chicken and steaming vegetables greeted us before a child's voice asked, "Alfred, did you see them drive up?"

Before he could reply, Dick whispered, "Fee fi fo fum…"

"Dick!" her voice sounded again. She burst through the rear entrance of the kitchen and met us in the atrium, arms quickly wrapping around Dick's legs. He tousled her hair and she swatted his hand away, informing him she just brushed her hair. When her gaze settled on my face, she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Sibling rivalry at its best.

^V^

With the dinner guests long gone and Ms. Selina corralling her daughter upstairs for a bath, the old house was finally quiet. Master Dick had helped clear the dinner table and assisted in some fashion with the dishes. Or rather drying them and nearly dropping two wine glasses on the floor. He managed to catch both mere inches before colliding with the tiled floor and to my utter horror, began to flawlessly juggle them.

He smiled in light of my frightened expression and said, "Alfred, did you honestly think I would let the Mikasa take a nose dive?"

I let out the air that had trapped itself in my chest and managed, "There was a moment of question, sir."

I had been doing a final tour of the ground floor at a little after ten and noticed the door to the library was ajar, letting a sliver of light into the corridor. With the location of only two of the three residents of the house accounted for, I knew who was residing within. I backtracked momentarily to the kitchen to fetch the pot of tea I had made just in case, the small serving plate with the already prepared slice of cheesecake and then promptly returned to the study door. I smiled slightly before entering the room, "Taken to hiding, Master Bruce?"

He was sitting in the large beige leather chair that he and Mattie often shared while reading. When he turned to look at me, the fatigue on his face vanished in an instant, replaced by a slight smile, "Alfred."

I set the tray of tea on the end table that held a small reading lamp and a book marked copy of "The Trumpet of the Swan". I knew he and Miss Mattie had been working through the children's novel for a little over two weeks and were already nearing the end of Louis the Trumpeter Swan's adventures. It was hard to remember a time when I could not hear Master Bruce's baritone alternating with his daughter's soft voice as they read with one another each night.

And soon there was to be another young voice to be heard…

After pouring tea into two cps, I handed one to Master Bruce before taking one for myself, sitting in the small leather armchair beside him. We sipped quietly for a moment before he asked, "Did Selina come back down?"

I shook my head slightly.

He stared at the teacup in his hands for a moment before setting it on the tray beside him, eyes resting on the dessert before scaling the book on the table.

The length of the day could be seen on every inch of his being. After he dropped Miss Mattie off at school, he had returned shortly before eight to pick up Ms. Selina in order to drive in to town to Dr. Benedict's office for the conclusion of the first trimester appointment. Master Bruce had ducked out momentarily to visit his eldest and dearest friend, Jim Gordon.

Roughly two hours later, it had been a late lunch at the Cassario Café, a tour of Robinson Park and then off to Master Bruce's appointment with Dr. Reynolds. Upon receiving a clear bill of health, he had then dropped Ms. Selina off at the Manor before picking Miss Mattie up and taking her to indoor soccer practice. Afterwards it was off to the barn to bid good night to her beloved steed before finally returning home, ten hours after setting out that morning.

Instead of a quiet night to himself, he had been faced with a lengthy and late dinner with his eldest son and his fiancée. Although I admired his attempts to remain cordial and hospitable, I could tell that he desired nothing more than a change of clothes and a good night's sleep. I first noticed his absence when I had returned to the dining room with raspberry cheesecake for dessert. His chair was empty and pushed in and when I had glanced over to Ms. Selina, she had said, "Bruce said he'd catch dessert later."

I glanced at my wristwatch and smirked; later had arrived.

Submitting to my strong urge to break the silence between us, I spoke, "So very nice to see Ms. Gordon."

He nodded slightly, eyes fixed on the cover of Miss Mattie's book.

Although he hid it well, I knew he was ecstatic about having another child with Ms. Selina. I recalled the first week after discovering the pregnancy, seeing a whole new energy within him. For six days in a row, he was already up and dressed for the day when I went to wake him and was up well after his wife and daughter had retired to bed. Even three months later, I could still see the energy in his eyes as he read to his child or whenever he spoke with his wife about redoing the nursery. A liveliness that no doubt would only grow as the new arrival neared.

"I take it everything went well this morning?"

His eyes found mine slowly, "Hmm?"

"The doctor's appointment for Ms. Selina."

Master Bruce nodded, "It went well. They pulled more blood for the nuchal translucency screening… and we have an ultrasound scheduled in two weeks. The… The physical exam was fine though."

I sipped, "Wonderful to hear, sir," I paused before asking, "If I may be so bold sir, will you be informing Miss Mattie of the pregnancy shortly?" It had been decided by both Master Bruce and Ms. Selina that in light of an unexpected events, they were to wait to tell their daughter of the new addition to the family once things were well under way.

"Actually, Selina and I were going to discuss that this evening. Now that we're through the first trimester, I don't see why not."

Before I could comment, I heard soft, padded footfalls enter the room. We both looked up to see Ms. Selina wrapped in her husband's dark blue robe. She smiled as she approached us, "So this is where you two are hiding…"

"Conversing," Master Bruce corrected, "Conversing in seclusion."

"Conversing about… Me?"

"Who else," Master Bruce said softly as she took to sitting on his lap.

I rose slowly, taking my near empty tea cup, the pot and tray with me, "Well, I believe I'll be retiring for the evening if there isn't anything else."

"Thank you Alfred," Master Bruce spoke softly, his face much more relaxed than when I had first entered the room. Ms. Selina thanked me as well and then asked Master Bruce if he had any intentions of eating his cheesecake. He commented that he wasn't and as I slipped out into the corridor, I heard the clinking of silverware and porcelain.

After making a quick stop to the kitchen to tend to the tea tray and to turn the lights off, I made my way upstairs. As I stepped off onto the second floor, I heard footsteps from behind me and glanced over my shoulder to see Master Bruce carrying his wife, stumbling up the stairs. Although guilt rose within me, I looked on in the dark for a moment longer than necessary, just enough to see Ms. Selina remove her arms from around her husband's neck in order to shimmy out of her robe. Just before it fell to the floor, she reached out and grasped it, giggling as she kissed him.

I muttered a soft, "My word," before making my way towards my quarters at a quicker rate.

Not ten minutes later, I was changed and sitting in bed pretending to read with a strong urge to pick up the telephone to report the good news of Ms. Selina's appointment with another talented physician. And as if by fate, the phone rang and her voice was on the other end when I answered, "My, my, Mr. Pennyworth, what are you doing up so late?"

"Waiting for you, Dr. Thompkins."

We chatted a bit about each other's day and when we came to the topic of the obstetrician appointment, she slipped into doctor mode and I did my best to answer her barrage of questions on what little knowledge I had obtained from Master Bruce and Ms. Selina that evening. At ten after midnight, I could no longer hide my fatigue as yawns regularly began escaping from my lips. Before hanging up, Leslie asked whether or not the youngest Wayne would finally learn of the expected addition to the family.

I glanced up from my book and paused, arranging my words, "I believe that Master Bruce and Ms. Selina are… discussing that very matter as we speak, my dear."

^V^

Perched on the elaborate stone carving on the corner of the Bludhaven's CitiBank Amphitheatre, I whined, "This isn't fair."

"Oh quiet."

I sighed again, "As of 12:09, it was officially my birthday, therefore I should not have to be patrolling, alone I might add, in my former city of residence in the middle of a blizzard."

Barbara's voice took a moment to reply to me over the comm. link, "First of all it's not a blizzard by any means, Birthday Brat. The American Weather Service has called for four to six inches snow of which most has already fallen. Secondly…. You're a crime fighter, you are capable of fighting crime, no matter what day it is, even if it's your birthday. Now either quit whining or be prepared to bunker down in your very cold and very empty Bludhaven apartment."

A soft click sounded as she disconnected before I could even reply.

"But… but… but…" I stammered to myself.

Knowing I had probably pushed her too far with the overzealous complaints, not whining, I gave Barbara some time to cool off and to deal with the hassles Gotham was no doubt facing. In the routine I had taken up, I visited Bludhaven two week nights and once on the weekend. Unfortunately, when I had set up my schedule for that week, my trip to the 'Haven fell on a Friday evening, specifically the twentieth of March.

The commute had been tricky with the snow coming down in buckets and navigating the city on foot had equally trying with the gusty seaboard winds. When I had contacted and apparently pissed off Barbara shortly after midnight, I had already been working through the city for four and a half hours, hitting all the right spots but not finding any action.

When I had told Barbara this, she said for me to try harder.

Fine, if trouble wasn't coming to me, I was coming to the trouble.

I leapt from the top of the three-story bank and began making my way from rooftop to rooftop away from the pristine order of downtown towards the real heart of the city. With the aide of an anchored line, I finally landed on the roof next door of a one story brick building that was infamously known for more than its crab cakes and imported draft beers. The gentlemen's club had been existence well beyond my twenty-eight years and for as long as I knew, had been a hot seat for scum related activity for just as long.

And if there was anywhere I could get myself into trouble, it would be the Lion's Den.

The skylight offered a smoky and dimly lit view of the main floor, small padded booths filled with partially intoxicated patrons waiting for the next show to come on stage. And it looked really warm in there… Probably a keen seventy degrees to keep the room warm and the hoodlums thirsty.

"Hope I don't need to make a reservation," I muttered as I carefully opened the skylight. I peered inside, found the main sources of light to be the giant disco ball to the right and a row of hanging fluorescent lights over the bar. The club was at half capacity, of which put me at ease. Going against fifteen armed men was much more appealing than thirty.

I withdrew two Batarangs from my gauntlet and prepared to throw them at both lights when I heard Barbara's voice, "Hey, Birthday Boy, get back to Gotham pronto, found something better for you to do with your time."

"Better than beating up drunken baddies?"

"Ten times better. I'll explain things en route."

I was about to replace the Batarangs before smirking and throwing them anyway, causing both sets of light fixtures to crash to the ground. Hearing shrill cries from strippers and hoarse bellows of confusion from convicts only caused my smile to grow as I backtracked my way to downtown. Once securely in the car, I dusted snow from my hair and shoulders and hit the ignition.

A moment before pulling out of the alley and onto the street, the LCD screen came to life, revealing the back of Barbara's head. I watched on as she worked on the auxiliary computer that was beside her main system, most likely checking her eBay accounts or cracking into the Pentagon. Either or.

When she looked back I grinned at her and she offered a slight smile.

"What have you got?"

Her image was replaced with a scanned image of a white piece of paper with three small columns typed out in bold Roman script. I glanced at the screen alternatively with looking forward through the windshield, reading each column separately. The first list included: York, Washington, Delaware. All state related names was the first thing that came to mind as my eyes moved onto the second list: Sputnik, Vostok, Apollo. Space related… The earliest object to orbit Earth, the first vessel taking the first man into space and then the craft taking the first men to the moon. The last list was a bit more confusing as it was a list of numbers: 11,000, 2,750 and 776.

"Any idea as to what the numbers mean? Or any of the clues for that matter?"

"Not yet. They're obviously in categories but what they're hinting at I haven't the slightest."

"Ought to wake up Bruce, he'd figure it out in a minute."

There was a long pause before she replied; "I asked Batman about that as an option, he didn't seem too keen on it."

"Ah," I said before asking, "So where did we find said clues?"

"It was faxed to the commissioner's office this evening. With his good-natured heart, Batman always drops in on her around ten-thirty; only tonight she didn't flip him off. She handed him the fax, said she'd gotten a copy every hour on the hour since eight from an unknown source. Told him to take care of it."

"Gotta love those love/hate relationships," I interjected. "Well, tell him I'm on my way and that I'll dink around with what it means."

"And by saying you'll dink around you're going to call a certain someone and have him solve it for you and then take all the credit."

"No… No, he's asleep, and I know the wrath of a disturbing him. I'll see you later tonight, after we nail this poetic scum bag."

As I sped through the snowdrifts, my mind scored the hundreds of possible meanings the short lists could hold. I shot the numbers through my head over and over until my eyes spun. Feeling safer with words, I went back the first list. All state-related, two East coast and original colonies with one West coast… There were state offices in Gotham City, FBI branch offices, alongside a number of general municipality and city buildings and offices…

But there sure as hell wasn't a space program, I thought while thinking back on the space travel list. An observatory at Hudson University but aside from that, Gotham was well behind in the space race. Sputnik, Vostok, Apollo…

And then there were those damned numbers.

I had just entered the city limits when Barbara's face returned to the screen, "Hey, any luck being a detective?"

"I wish," I mumbled. I told her that the states may indicate a robbery or attack on one of the official state offices and that if anything, the space list may suggest a theft on the millions of dollars of equipment at the observatory but that the numbers had no meaning yet.

"Yeah I was thinking along the same lines. I also was able to trace the fax number, belongs to a Little Stockton address, small apartment complex, pretty crappy from what I remember and there were no renovations listed in the county records. The name was Erno Rubik."

"As in creator of the Rubik's cube? I hated that thing…"

"As in. It's a safe bet that the one and only Mr. Nygma is involved… Anyway, Batgirl checked out the building and all there is in the entire apartment is the actual fax machine.

She didn't find any prints, not that we expected there would be any. Batman was going down to take a look when a call came in from the First National Bank of a robbery. Seven armed men, knocked out the two guards and made out with a little over five million in cash."

"Damnit," I muttered. The states must have meant the bank then but… "Wait Babs, maybe this first list, York, maybe it's not meant for New York, but for York, Pennsylvania. The nation's first capital."

She paused before saying, "Right. And Delaware was the first official state."

"And Washington?"

"Well, going with the theme here, I would guess that would be the first president."

I nodded in agreement, "Fits perfectly with the First National Bank. Well that's one list down, now to figure out what the hell the other two mean… Where's the Man, I'll meet up with him and we can go out from there."

She then rattled off an address in the Central Business District and said he was next door to the Bank according to her radar. I made a kissing noise and told her not to wait up.

I had to catch me a green bowler wearing, giggling, slightly near-sighted bad guy.

^V^

"This is a goddamned nightmare… haven't you dealt with this clown before?"

Instead of strangling the commissioner, which would have been the correct response to her statement, I grimaced, "If this is Nygma, solving the line of clues will predict the rest of his crimes."

Standing in the narrow service alley between the bank and small law firm, I glared down at the trench coat garbed woman as she scanned the flashing lights and squad cars before us. She had been on the scene before me, entering the bank alongside the squadron of crime scene analysts and detectives. I met her at the side entrance of the bank with a scowl and a peace offering to help bring in whoever was responsible as long as she kept out of my way.

She didn't agree on my terms, but she didn't disagree either.

Commissioner Kelsey turned to face me, "Well, how about you get on with solving them. We've got this scene under control, if you want to move on to whatever's next, be my guest." She turned towards the exit and stomped off.

In three quick strides I caught up with her and stepped in front of her. A look of fear flashed over her features quickly before being replaced with genuine anger. I spoke lowly, "I will move on when I've checked this scene."

There had been a brief look of defiance on her face before she rolled her eyes and stormed away, "You have ten minutes."

Although she had no way of hearing me, I replied, "More than enough."

Having toured the city since my first encounter with the commissioner with the three short lists running loops in my mind, I had been slightly taken a back when the bank robbery struck. Then, putting the first list in a different perspective, I realized that whoever was behind it had given me ample time to figure it out. Learning from this, I had only a short period of time until the next clue came into play.

I had sent Batgirl to the Hudson University Observatory to scope things out. According to Oracle, Nightwing was en route to the bank, and I would shortly send him to the Roberson Museum, home of a new interactive space exploration. I felt like there was something missing, some other possible answer to the clue. There was no way of knowing though.

Well, there was, and he was just a phone call away…

As I entered the bank from the side emergency entrance, the alarm already turned off by the first responding units, I thought back to the identity Oracle had found. The inventor of the Rubik's cube. Edward Nygma had always been found of using aliases related to great puzzlers of our time and I had very little doubt that he wasn't the one behind the list of clues. While Nightwing, Batgirl and I began the search by foot for the red-haired menace, Oracle had taken to looking by her own methods.

Naturally, Arkham had released Nygma to a maximum-security resort-esque facility an hour north of Gotham. The new rehabilitation center was supposed to be the best in the nation, specializing in criminals with psychological conditions. And having been a failure at Arkham for so many years, the state decided it was worth a try.

And the kind hearts of the North East Institute for Criminal Rehabilitation had decided that Edward had been such a good little patient that they had released him on parole two weeks ago with a prescription of vitamin supplements and Prozac.

With six thugs helping Nygma, there was a greater chance for something being left behind. And even if there wasn't, I was not about to let him escape unscathed. As I did with Deadshot…

"Psst."

I had been traveling down the narrow hall that lead the way from the employee parking lot to the various individual offices. I looked up to the exposed support beams to see a pair of glowing green eyes and a bright smile, "Peek a boo."

He gracefully leapt to the ground beside me before I had time to acknowledge him verbally. Upon landing he asked, "What have we got so far?"

I updated him on the situation with Nygma's release and the possible targets for the second set of clues. He agreed to head to the Roberson to check things out there and would contact me with anything he found. After tossing up a line to the beam he had just jumped from, I watched briefly as he swung up and out a window that had been propped open by a bo staff.

Alone again.

Having searched through the vault first, the crime scene techs had moved their way up towards the entrance that had been shattered open with a small explosive. Nothing too high-tech or elaborate because that wasn't Eddie's style. That and he was probably too scared of blowing himself up. The vault itself was a chaos of empty drawers, paper shreds that once held money in neat, orderly bundles and an ominous flashing warning light. No prints would be found because playing it safe meant gloves. That was more Eddie's style.

I scanned the drawers for any sign of torn fibers being caught on the sharp edges. I found a small wisp of black thread and bagged it before putting it into my utility belt. Aside from that there was nothing too notable…

"Hmm," I said quietly as I spotted a folded scrap of paper amidst the torn paper bindings on the floor. I crouched slightly and retrieved it, unfolding it even though I had a hunch as to what it said.

The same list that had been faxed to the commissioner, although the first list had been crossed out with a big black X. The second list had been circled and above it there was a small side note, "E " in a familiar box-lettered print.

Pocketing the note as well, I backtracked my way down the hall and jogged down to the end of the alley where the 'Mobile sat idling. Even before the door had closed behind me, I was already accelerating onto the street. "Oracle?" I barked.

"Yes, boss?"

"Search the city for any listings of any business or company with the word Space in it."

She was quiet for a moment before saying, "Awful long list, over a hundred."

I nodded, "Now look on that list for E then space."

"One word?"

"I'll take anything at this point."

She replied much quicker that time, "I have two listings, Espace the restaurant and E-Space Interior Design." She rattled off two addresses in opposite ends of the city. I wanted Nightwing and Batgirl to keep their positions in case I was wrong and I told her so. "Sounds good to me, I'll tell them the other two locations just in case."

"Fine," I said, "I'll take the restaurant first."

Even as the time neared one in the morning, the drive to Espace took nearly twenty minutes and even as I pulled into a secluded lot a block from the restaurant, there were still dozens of patrons milling in and out of the building. A much more desirable target than an empty designer's studio.

After a few minutes of sitting in the car, I grew restless and decided to get a better look of things. I locked up and shot a line to the roof of the parking garage to my left and once on the roof, then made my way to the snow covered top of Espace. The pulse of music made its way up the two floors and reverberated in my feet. A happening party no doubt, as college students were returning from Spring Break still giddy with party fever.

Normal college students anyway.

As I walked to the back of the building, which overlooked the service entrance and dumpsters, I noticed a pair of hunter green sedans pulling up, too similar to be conspicuous or coincidental. They pulled up and parked, engines still running with their the lights dimmed low, before three dark garbed men stepped out of the first car and four similarly dressed men exited from the second car. I called Oracle quick to have her send the others to my location while I mentally mapped out the best way to intervene. I would be able to keep from them even entering the building let alone to carry out whatever was planned.

I took a set of three Batarangs into each hand and carefully aimed before sending them flying towards their targets. Each collided with their destinations, bringing out cries of pain as the sheaths of steel entered forearms, hands and sides. I sent two more barrages down before return fire was shot, aimed frantically at the rooftops surrounding them. The cries of pan were quickly replaced with panicked orders to get to cover and to find "that masked freak!"

A few bullets whizzed in my direction after I dropped a handful of tear gas pellets, banking the pavement in a wretch inducing yellow haze. With the panic level rising down below, it was my sign to come down to play.

I landed feet first onto the shoulders of the largest thug and the one who had finally located my position on the roof of the restaurant. After making sure he was knocked out cold with a supplementary blow to the back of the head, I somersaulted into the legs of his nearest companion and struck out at his Achille's tendons on both of his legs with on kick. He collapsed; screaming for his mother and a jab to his neck silenced him and left him croaking on the icy asphalt beside his partner. I followed the sound of sneezing and hyperventilation to a pair of thugs that had their backs to each other, mere feet apart.

When they bumped into each other, both screamed and began striking at one another with a fury of fists.

Leaving them to pummel one another for the moment, I moved swiftly around them towards the final two thugs as I heard Nygma's voice rattling off names that only a mother could love. The sound of air moving swiftly caused me to duck down as an aluminum bat swung passed me. The teary eyed assailant attempted three more times to connect the bat with my face, and on the fourth attempt, I latched onto it, twisted it away from him before using it as a battering ram on his abdomen. After a loud "oof" he doubled over and fell to his knees.

"Randy, get back here! I'll be damned if you get your cut!"

I scanned the area as the smoke cleared while throwing a roundhouse that knocked over the major-league wannabe. Edward Nygma, in his green-garbed glory, stood clutching a taser gun in one hand and a .38 in the other. I took a step towards him and when I looked down to lock eyes with him, he aimed both at me and fired. I dodged the bullet easily and lunged forward, my hands latching onto his. Sharp twists of both popped the wrists and both weapons fell to the pavement, their clattering echoing in the silence.

The taster darts had embedded in my side and popped with electricity. I tugged them out and threw them to the ground.

He looked up at me, fighting to smile.

I punched him square in the jaw, "The first colony, the first president and the first capital of the nation."

I jabbed his diaphragm as he tried to strike out at me, "The first object to orbit Earth, the first space craft taking the first man into space to take man to the moon."

Letting go of his one hand, I let him drop to the ground.

He wiped a small droplet of blood from his chin an looked up at me, "That's only two out of three, Batman."

It was then that I realized I had not figured out the last clue. I had nothing to show him…

Instead of satisfying him with a response, I cuffed him and his men together and then secured them to a dumpster with a weeks' worth of spoiled food inside. Nygma begged to know if I had solved the final riddle and I simply ignored him. When the sound of sirens neared, I finally looked into his eyes and said, "That's for me to know and you to find out."

^V^

At a little before one in the morning, the bedside phone came to life and I answered on the fourth ring with a weak, "Hello?"

"Selina, this is Barbara, is Bruce there?" Her voice was all business but there wasn't an ounce of worry that I could pick up.

I told her to wait a moment and then reached over to touch Bruce's shoulder. He had come up to bed just after midnight, and had been surprised to see that I had waited up for him. I fell asleep shortly after he slipped under the sheets and I knew that the same could not be said for him. Ever since we had learned of the pregnancy, he was over anxious, nervous even, which made sleep all that more difficult.

"Bruce?"

He growled quietly under his breath, eyes still closed.

"Bruce, it's Barbara."

The lids snapped open and he sat up while reaching for the phone from me, "What is it?"

I handed him the receiver, "She didn't---."

"Barbara?" he snapped into the phone while getting out of bed, hastily donning his robe. I sat up and watched him turn on the bedside lamp as he searched for his slippers, "Right… Sounds it… First National Bank would be my--- Ah, I see. I'm heading down now, send me the scan and call me back in five minutes."

He depressed the power button and tossed the phone onto the edge of the bed, upsetting Isis who had been sleeping a foot away. She stood, glared at him and then sauntered up to my side. I asked, "What's up?"

He shrugged as he slipped on his shoes, "Nothing serious. Set of clues sent to the police commissioner and already one of the three crimes it indicates has been committed. I'm going down to help Barbara figure out the last two clues before it's too late."

"Okay…" I said quietly, not sure as if it would do any good to offer him company. They had rarely called upon him to help with anything in the last three months. Although he had kept plenty busy during the day, it didn't help that he had nothing to do at night. I reclined back against the pillows and said, "If you're not back in an hour, I'll bring you some coffee."

He was already half out of the door when he heard me and turned partially to look back at me. The stern look on his face was one that I had grown to love and one I had sorely missed. Keeping the scowl, he said, "Better make it cocoa, would like to get some sleep after we figure this out."

I couldn't help but laugh after he stormed off. After turning the light off, I replaced the phone and curled up under the covers, taking possession of the pillow Bruce had been using. To keep my word, I set the alarm for ten of two to bring Bruce his cocoa.

Isis and I fell asleep almost instantly and when the buzzing of the alarm sounded, I reached over the purring cat, not at all surprised to feel the empty bed beside me. I stood, stretched my arms and had to find my own robe and slippers as Bruce had taken his. I avoided my reflection in the mirror, as I knew my hair was completely out of control.

"Coming?" I called to Isis. She picked her head slightly before gently resting her chin pack on her ebony paws. "Lazy bum," I muttered before stepping out into the hallway.

Mattie's door was open slightly and when I peered in, she was neatly tucked under her blankets with Taffy snuggled up on her pillow. No doubt Bruce had checked her on his way down and readjusted her chaotic blankets.

I took the steps two at a time and wrapped my robe tighter around me as I made my way to the kitchen. Had I the time, energy or patience, I would have taken the time for homemade hot cocoa. Since I had nothing but bad pillow hair and constant yawn, I filled two mugs with water, put them in the microwave for two minutes and then dumped in a few spoonfuls of the instant mix. Without marshmallows, but I'm sure he would live.

Carrying the two mugs in one hand, I traversed the house, opened the clock and proceeded to make my way down the granite steps, a bit slower than the first stairs I had encountered that evening. The Cave was illuminated only by the computer displays, Bruce's form in the chair casting an eerie shadow on the floor. Barbara's image was on one monitor while a scanned image of a typed document was on another. Additional, smaller displays showed what I assumed were some sort of databank search systems, no doubt trying to make sense of the riddles.

"You know, watching TV in the dark is bad for your eyes."

"What?" Bruce asked quietly, his eyes never leaving the various displays.

"Nothing," I sighed as I paused beside him. I set both mugs on the counter and then watched on as he worked. Fingers flying over the keyboards, the databank images changing every few seconds as he inputted different numbers.

"What's the progress?" I asked.

Barbara spoke up before Bruce, "Well, the second location was to be space themed and we had the observatory, museum and Espace the restaurant covered. Turns out third one was it because they pulled up shortly after Batman arrived."

"They?" I asked.

"Edward Nygma and six hired flunkies, although one ran off before he could be apprehended."

"So it was Eddie. I thought he was upstate, at some rehab center?"

Bruce's paused in his typing and looked over his shoulder at me, "How did you know that?"

I shrugged before carefully sipping from my mug, "Just do. I'm not completely out of the loop…" I looked up towards Barbara, where I knew the video feed took images, "Did he escape?"

"Released on probation," Bruce grumbled before returning to his work.

"Ah," I commented, sipping once more before setting the mug back down next to Bruce's, "I take it those are the clues?"

Barbara nodded, "The first two we solved but the last one has us stumped. The numbers are kind of a hurdle, but there has to be a common theme."

Bruce grumbled something to himself and after a moment, he reached over and took his cocoa. I looked over the list of numbers: 11,000, 2,750 and 776. Decreasing in number, no real amount, all even numbers, five then four than three digits, but I'm sure Bruce had already played with those basic facts. The meaning of the numbers was the real trouble.

"BC," Bruce said softly, "Before Christ. The numbers are all dates of the BC era. Important events…" his words were lost as he muttered to himself, bringing up new data bases with a few keystrokes. I took to sitting on the arm of the chair, watching on in awe.

If only I could get him that determined about picking out names for the baby…

"As much as it may or may not help," I interrupted, "The very first version of the Olympic Games were held in seven hundred something BC."

A moment later, Bruce confirmed it with a gruff, "776."

Not fifteen minutes later, the cocoa was cold and the clues were figured out. The settlement of Ain Mallaha was founded in 11,000, of which was one of the very first true, stationary civilized communities. The second date, 2,750, ended up being the completion date of the earliest stepped pyramid.

History…

Barbara removed her glasses, "If he had gotten away tonight, he would have robbed that new ancient civilization exhibit at the Natural History Museum."

I snickered, "All of them are famous firsts. Clever, considering what today is."

"How's that?" Bruce asked while looking back to face me.

I sighed and grabbed Bruce's arm, pointing at his wristwatch, "The first day of spring."

After I let him go, he continued to stare at the watch face, transfixed almost. Barbara was fighting giggles, my deadpan expression no doubt making it that much more difficult for her. I listened on as they closed up shop for the night from the laboratory, where I had flipped on the overhead light. After lighting a Bunsen burner, I set his mug on the small stand, letting the liquid heat up once more. I heard near silent footsteps approach, then Bruce's voice, "What are you doing?"

"Comrade Wayne, your cocoa is warming…" I replied in a soft Russian accent. We had watched the tail end of a James Bond film before bed and I couldn't get it out of my head, so I had decided to play along with it.

Perhaps it was because he was tired or that he had just been shown up by his former criminal wife, but it totally went over his head, "What?"

"Nothing," I said while turning the gas off. I used a set of rubber coated tongs to pick it up and set it on the countertop, "Be very careful, it's hot."

He shook his head at me, "You're something else."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me that."

Leaving the cocoa, we walked back upstairs together in near darkness. As we stepped into the house, I latched my hand onto his and he shook his head at me.

I asked him what was wrong and he shrugged, "Why didn't I see the link… between the clues… How could I have missed that?"

"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again," I grinned up at him.

He smirked and replied, "Well, first and foremost, I solved the other two lists."

"Being fair, you saw the clues first."

"First come, first served," he grinned as I smacked his chest.

I gently squeezed his hand, "You never thought making cocoa and detective work went hand-in-hand, did you?"

He paused, leaned in and kissed me on the lips, "There's a first time for everything."

^V^


	5. What Lies Ahead: V

Title: What Lies Ahead: V

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: A seemingly random crime hits closer to home than expected. Set ten months after the completion of One And Only

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: The Rose butchering scene is based on one seen on The OC.

^V^

"Remind me again why we aren't eloping," Dick grumbled softly.

I glanced across the kitchen table to see he had barely made it halfway through the stack of confirmed guest reservations. Being a rare free Friday afternoon, we had decided to spend it together to work on loose ends around the house and for the wedding. With a little over a month before the wedding, we were surprisingly well organized and prepared.

Caterers were booked, the reception was in order, the flowers, priest, entertainment, and wedding party was all planned out and ready to go on July tenth. Although we had decided on a small wedding, the task of checking off who was attending and with what guests and which entrée they preferred was a tedious one. Thus, I had assigned it to my husband to be.

"Complaining wastes valuable energy, Dick," I replied before returning to my own work, rewiring the electronics in his mask.

"Can't we pawn this off onto, I don't know… Mattie? I mean, reading and tallying up entrée orders could be like extra credit for school."

Fighting a grin, I said, "Richard, she's seven years old, I think she has far better things to do with her time."

He was quiet for a moment before finally replying, "Well, so do I… Like kickball… hide and go seek…"

After ten minutes of dutiful work, he spoke again, "Hey, do you know anything about the drama of the week, Tim was a little sketchy on the details."

I nodded as I wiped the mask clean with a small cotton cloth. After a blow to the head from the other night, Dick's infrared lenses had not been malfunctioning and, more importantly, had been bugging the hell out of him. I set the mask and cloth back on the table before bringing him up to speed on the drama de jour, "Apparently Bruce was late to Selina's doctor appointment that was on Monday morning, showed up just as it finished."

"Why was he late?"

Thinking back on my conversations earlier that week with Bruce and with Selina, I replied, "He had a meeting at Wayne Enterprises that he was supposed to cut out early from but was held back."

"So it wasn't really his fault."

"No… But it was a pretty important doctor's visit; they did the ultrasound that revealed the sex of the baby. Bruce and Selina had yet to agree on whether or not they wanted to know, so Selina decided for them."

"And?" Dick's eyes were wide with anticipation.

"It's a boy."

He grinned and then shrugged, "Then what are they fighting over? Shouldn't they be in the midst of parental bliss?"

"Bruce didn't want to know. He's mad at her for learning the sex of the baby and she's mad at him for not making it to the appointment on time."

Dick shook his head and went back to checking off names on the guest list, "Well, it's been a while since they fought over something truly inconsequential. As long as they make up by our special day it won't bother me any."

I snickered, "Our special day? Since when did you become such a sap?"

He shrugged a shoulder before sitting back in his chair, "I think it's the rose petal pillow covers, sprayed with that girly perfume."

My brow arched, "What perfume?"

"I don't know, not the one you wear, but the one you spray on the sheets and the pillows on the couch… and your sweaters."

I paused, reveling in how truly dense Dick could be at times, despite his years of training as a detective, "That would be fabric softener, dear."

He went quiet again before standing and quickly, walking towards the kitchen, "You want something to drink?"

"Changing the subject to save your dignity…" I muttered.

He sighed while pausing at the doorway, glancing back at me over his shoulder, "I have no dignity, you know that. So are you thirsty or what?"

"Coffee if there's any left," I managed through giggles.

I moved closer to his chair and noted that he had actually made it more than halfway through the list, impressive. Dick had just returned with a glass of water and a mug of coffee when there was a rap at the front door. I glanced at my watch, noting that it was only four-thirty, two hours before Cass had planned on dropping by. He set the drinks on the table and then jogged down the hall, reaching it just after the second knock began. I listened as he opened the door and said, "Hey, come on in."

Then Selina's voice, "Thanks, sorry for dropping in like this… But I was on my way to pick up Mattie and I… well I was hoping that one of you was here…"

"You all right, Selina?"

I heard slow footsteps before she answered, "Yeah, it's just my feet are killing me…" she paused when they entered the dining room and smiled when she saw me, "Hey there."

Six months pregnant and she was absolutely stunning in a sleeveless pale blue silk dress. She'd gotten her hair cut for the warm summer weather, layered, her long dark waves fell only to just between her shoulder blades. The late afternoon outdoor sessions of yoga she told me about had given her a slight bronze and had allowed her to keep her toned arms and form despite her delicate condition.

Earlier that week we had shared lunch at the Manor and she had vented on how little time she could spend at the Preserve once she entered her third trimester. Bruce had been worried about her making the long drive and any additional stress from her working, but she had been more worried about Bruce calling her every fifteen minutes of the day to check in.

Dick pulled out his chair and offered it to Selina while returning to the kitchen to no doubt fetch her something to drink. As she eyed the guest lists, I asked, "So where's Mattie? Dick can go pick her up for you."

"Oh, no, thanks, but I'll manage…" she glanced over at me, "No, Mattie's with Cass and Tim this afternoon so I could run some errands, but I still have another fifteen minutes before I have to get her."

Dick returned and gave Selina a glass of water and made the mistake of asking, "Where's Bruce?"

Selina sipped water gracefully before setting the glass on the tabletop, "He should be on his way home now… So how are things coming?" she asked suddenly while patting the guest list.

Dick, who was still standing behind Selina, pointed down the hall towards the bedroom and then slowly walked into the hall. I winked at him before reaching for the notepad, "Pretty good, Dick's been going through the RSVP's all day and so far it looks like most everyone is coming. Even my dad's son from his first marriage."

Her brow twitched slightly, "Hm, didn't know he even had a son…"

"James is the well kept family secret… Speaking of sons, how are you doing?"

Her left hand traced the edge of her abdomen, "Okay… I'm having a copy of the ultrasound made so when it comes we'll have to watch it… And Bruce still hasn't seen it." I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything at all, waited for her to continue, "You know, I wasn't really that upset with him when he was late… It was when he yelled at me for making the decision without him… I don't know it just pissed me off."

I sipped my coffee and added, "He seems to have a knack for that."

She laughed, "That he does… I don't know, I want to blame it on raging hormones or the fact that my legs have been in a perpetual cramp since last Tuesday…" she bit her lip before shaking her head, "But he sure isn't making things easier."

"How so?"

"He's been coming home from work late for nearly two weeks now, he's missed picking Mattie up from her riding lessons I don't know how many times and when he is home, he's in this… this mood, that damned sulking mood where he hides in his study… It's not even like he's down in the Cave talking to Tim or you or Dick…"

"What is it?" I asked, doing my best to stomach my concern.

"The brooding, the avoiding… Barbara, this is just like last year."

"Except the stressor is having another baby."

She leaned back in her chair and sighed, "Not to mention you and Dick are getting married…" she leaned back against the chair and sighed, "Damn… Now I guess I should be the nice, understanding wife instead of ripping his head off at every word he says…"

"Afraid so."

She looked into my eyes and smiled, "How is it that every time I drop in for a chat you end up rearranging my life?"

"What are friends for?"

^V^

"So when is your last day of school, kid?" Tim asked as he pumped his legs, pushing his swing higher.

Mattie, who was swinging next to him, fought to keep up, "Next Friday. We're having a picnic on the football field. You can come if you want, Mom and Alfred are coming," she glanced over at me as I sat idle in my swing, "And you're coming, right Cass?"

I nodded, "You bet."

She resumed pumping her legs, her swing nearly reaching as high as Tim's, "Then you and Tim can come together."

Tim said, "I'll go as long as you come to my graduation party." It was scheduled two weeks before Dick and Barbara's wedding, an outdoor reception at his father's house for friends and family. After the challenge of deciding his path of formal education, he had finally graduated from GSU with a bachelor's in Business specializing in Communications and Technology. At the graduation ceremony three weeks earlier, he had told me his father was already asking about his plan's for a master's degree, as well as what his career goals entailed.

Tim had sighed that summer day, "I was half tempted to tell him about some investment options Bruce had set aside for me if I kept fighting crime, but I figured that wouldn't go over well."

Since we had picked Mattie up from school, I had noticed that she hadn't mentioned her father, but I decided not to bring it up. I knew that there her parents were quarrelling, but what I didn't know was to what extent she knew about it. Selina had called me earlier that morning and asked if I could watch Mattie for the afternoon while she ran around town. I had asked why Bruce wasn't able to pick her up and she had been reluctant to answer.

And when she did reply, I knew why she had hesitated.

Tim and I drove up to Bristol, picked Mattie up and then returned to Bryanttown for a bite to eat at a deli before heading over to the local park. We played soccer for a bit in one of the empty game fields before heading over to the swings to rest.

I watched on as Tim and Mattie moved higher and higher in the swings, Tim taunting her as he went slightly faster and slightly higher. She called out threats of catching up, of which he only laughed back at her. I was about to remind Tim that the swing set was designed for those thirteen and under when the cell phone in my pocket chirped. Leaving the two to finish their battle, I stepped off and answered it by the third ring, "Hello?"

"Cass, it's Selina."

"Hey, you on the way over? We're at the park."

"Oh, that's fine, I'm just turning on your street now, the park is on Madison right?"

"On the left."

"Be there in a minute," she said quickly before hanging up. She certainly sounded happier.

I returned to the swing set to see that Mattie and Tim were just sitting there, talking quietly as she pointed to an abrasion on his forearm. When I paused beside them, I caught the tail end of his explanation for the wound, "… Caught the back tire of my bike on the curb and nearly flipped right over. I caught myself on a street sign, but I skinned my arm good."

She stared in awe at the scabbed skin that he had not skinned on a street sign in some bike accident. She stared in awe at one of the many scrapes resulting from steroid pumped drug runners who had thrown cinder blocks as a manner of defending themselves.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little," he said. He then glanced up at me and asked, "Who called?" Mattie looked up at me as well, the curious look on her face only growing.

"Selina. She's on her way over."

"Aw man…" Mattie sighed as she resumed swinging.

"Aw man…" Tim mimicked as he stood and rubbed his palms together.

"Hey," Mattie giggled up at him.

He poked her collarbone gently and the giggling grew louder, "So, you excited about the wedding?"

She nodded, "Mom said I was in her and Dad's wedding, that I was flower girl for them too. She said she's going to show me pictures tonight."

"I remember that," Tim smirked as he led the way over to the small parking area at the entrance, "And during the reception after the wedding, you danced more than I did."

"I did?" she asked, looking up at him.

He nodded, "Yep. You even trotted out when your Mom and Dad had their first dance."

"No, I didn't."

"You did too, ask your mom, there's tons of pictures of it."

She pouted for a second before going silent. I had watched her quite a few times in the last few months, doing my best to relieve some of the stress her parents were beginning to face. When bridesmaids dresses were fitted a few weeks earlier, I had sat with Mattie on a couch at the bridal boutique, playing Hangman with her school vocabulary words. It was after seeing everyone in their dresses that she asked if I was going to get married someday.

I told her I didn't know because it had been the truth. In hopes to gear the talk away from my personal life, even from a seven year old, I asked her what she felt about having a new baby sibling. Genuinely, she was excited, as most of her friends had brothers and sisters and secretly she had always felt different for not having the same type of family. I had asked about Dick and she had answered, "I know he's my brother. But he's really old. Even though he doesn't act like it."

Just as we reached the parking lot, a silver BMW sedan pulled in and parked in the space next to Tim. Mattie trotted over and greeted her mother as she opened her car door while Tim and I lagged behind. Selina hugged her daughter, brushed a lose strand of hair back from Mattie's brow before she approached us, "Thanks for taking her, I would have hated to drag her around town all afternoon."

"No problem," I smiled at Mattie, "We had fun didn't we?"

She nodded in agreement and said, "Yep."

Tim spoke up next as he leaned against the passenger side door of his car, "We grabbed a bite to eat once we got into town, but she only had half of a sandwich."

"That's fine," Selina replied, "I'm sure she'll be starving by the time we get home."

We said our goodbyes and watched as Selina and Mattie drove off. I walked over to him and leaned against him, "Ready?"

He smiled, "For what?"

I kissed his lips gently as I slipped a hand into his pants pocket, sneaking the car keys out.

When I pulled back his smile had grown, "Nice sneak. Barely felt it. You could have a career as a pickpocket if this vigilante path doesn't last."

"Nah, I figure I'll live off whatever your investments Bruce signs over to you."

Tim took the keys back and opened the door for me, "Nice to know I'm loved."

I paused before getting in and looked at him face-to-face, smiling as innocently as possible. Although, instead of offering a word of adoration, I reached out with my hand and slapped his cheek gently, "Quit whining and drive."

^V^

Unlike the previous few nights, I had decided to patrol alone.

It wasn't that I minded Dick's playful banter.

Or Cass' dedicated "why are you taking a break now?" determination.

I just wanted to be alone.

A little after midnight, I had checked in with Oracle, who had little to report. Nightwing's accomplishment of the night had been an apprehension of a trio of tween wonders who had been loading a car with bagged bricks of marijuana right underneath a streetlight. Batgirl had checked in twice the whole night but had not said anything about her activities.

Not an hour later, I was in the middle of thrashing a small group of hoodlums who had made the attempt of running electronics out of the back of an appliance repair shop. The very second I restrained the last unconscious thug, I heard a soft tone over the comm. link then Oracle's voice, "You there?"

"Yes," I replied quietly.

"Just got a report of a possible 187. Called in anonymously, no responding units have reported yet… Just a few blocks from where you're at… 134 Hillbrook Ave."

"The Edie Coleman Center… I'm on it." The address drew up a red flag. I had read an article not a week earlier about the rehabilitation center's new renovations that were going to add over two dozen rooms, an indoor gymnasium and an additional section on the already existing library center. I had only read it after seeing Bruce's name listed as one of the main financial contributors.

With my cycle a block away, I backtracked, revved it up and raced the eleven blocks to the Center in record time. There wasn't a police car in sight, not surprising considering the call had just come in and the nearest precinct was nearly two miles away.

What was peculiar was the complete lack of any form of life.

It wasn't Midtown, but the area was generally alive well past three in the morning. Over the last ten years, there had been noticeable improvements to Hillbrook. Shopping malls, restaurants and residential apartments thrived in a region that years ago had been ground zero for drug dealers and their prized clients. And not seeing a single cluster of people leaving the movies or heading for a nightcap set something off inside me. I smirked, thinking a group of drunk college kids had called in to 911 for the fun of it and were hiding in the shadows…

"Hm," I said quietly as I looked up and down the street. The four story Coleman Center towered over the near-empty parking lot that resided next to it. I set out on foot for a closer look, still wary of the absence of sirens. After adjusting the night lenses in the cowl, I thought about contacting Oracle to see if the call had been cancelled.

But before I could activate the comm. link, I saw a lone shoe in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Hm," I repeated myself and moved in closer. Later I would record into my logs for the night that it was a size eight and half woman's dress shoe, two-inch high and thick rubber heel, a gel insert to provide minimal comfort for a long workday.

But at the moment, my eyes found something far more important to focus on.

She was laying face down, fifteen feet into a narrow service alley that no doubt allowed vendors to unload goods to the storage area of the rehab center. Her other shoe was still on her right foot, the left foot smudged with dirt on the heel, suggesting she had tried to flee. The dark pants blended in with the pavement, but her slate blue silk blouse practically glowed in the dark.

Digital camera out, I approached quietly, taking images of the body while my eyes scanned the pavement, searching for the glint of shell casings, taking mental images of the surroundings, which were surprisingly neat.

There were worse places to die.

Her right arm was extended out, a collection of lacerations on her palm and forearm suggested a knife being the weapon of choice rather than a gun. I scraped the underside of her pointer finger on her right hand into a sterile bag. Carefully, I lifted her shoulder up, revealing the torn front of her shirt and her bare skin. Four weeping stab wounds marred her abdomen and three more punctured her chest. Not exactly overkill, but certainly more than enough to get the job done.

I took a series of pictures of her front side before laying her back down. No purse in sight, no doubt the bounty of the kill, but a piece of plastic was clipped to the bloodied collar of her blouse. I took a shot of it before reading it: Andrea Chase-Miller, DCSW.

A social worker… Patient with a grudge?

A faint siren broke the silence and I decided that I was better off not being found at the scene of the crime. I quickly made it back to the cycle and headed for Tri-Corner. Oracle must have noticed my direction as her voice sounded in my ear, "Should I put on a pot of coffee?"

All I said in return was, "I'll be there in five."

I made it in three and a half minutes, and when I snuck into her workstation, she shook her head, "They have speed limits for a reason, you know."

She uploaded the pictures as I recapped the scene. Simultaneously, she entered the victim's name into her personal database and picked at a hangnail while she waited for results to surface. A collection of windows popped up and she said, "Bingo," she put on her reading glasses before saying, "Chase-Miller, Andrea. Thirty-seven years old, five-six, one-twenty, brown and brown… BSW at Ohio State, MSW at Clairmont College, DCSW three years ago at Harden U. Moved from Columbus just last year. Married to…" she clicked on another window which brought up a dossier of, "Dr. Thomas Miller… Medieval historian… teaches at Hudson, working on some new book…"

"Thorough program."

"Well, I wrote it," she shrugged before continuing, "Resides at… Oh, wow."

"What?"

"She was practically Bruce's neighbor. County Route 14 in Bristol, not eight miles from Wayne Manor… Two children… Thirteen-year-old girl, Allison Marie and seven-year-old boy, Terrance William."

An indicator light flashed on the monitor to our left and Barbara shifted slightly and attacked the keyboard before speaking into her headset, "Yes?"

Nightwing's voice replied, "Clean up on aisle twelve."

She brought up a digital map of Gotham and zoomed in on a small, stationary blue insignia, "So you did find something constructive to do…"

"Oh, I went all out. Apparently it's easy-solve night."

Barbara looked back at me over her shoulder before saying, "Maybe for you." She brought him up to speed on the Coleman Center murder. He then offered to work patrols on my side of town so that I could cover the case.

"Thanks," I replied.

"Anytime. Well, I'm off to do more good deeds."

I watched the blue dot travel on the screen for moment before Barbara said, "Pictures are ready. I sent them to the Cray and to your bungalow… Sorry, satellite cave…" she scanned the images briefly; the analytical mind in action behind her green eyes, "The pessimist inside me says that it doesn't look too promising."

"And what does the optimist say?"

She turned to face me, pulling off her glasses as she said, "You're Batman. You'll solve it no matter what."

^V^

By the close of patrols, I was exhausted from doing double duty. Batman had run an analysis of the fingernail scrapings on the murdered social worker only to find a mere droplet of B positive blood amidst unmatched DNA from the skin cells. Through the night, the case remained his priority, as he went about touring the area around the scene, hoping to find the murder weapon. Even finding the bloody blade would have made his night, if not even finding the person who had wielded it.

But he didn't. He had Oracle hunt down the number that had called in the murder but it had been a payphone, dozens of smudged fingerprints and little else. And at four-thirty when I told him I was calling it a night, he was still going to be out for "a while longer."

It was as I arrived home with the strong desire to sleep for the rest of my life that I found myself thinking about another girl killed in an alley. Another girl who was forgotten by others but haunted my every breath. Whose killer never met justice…

When I got into bed, Barbara was brushing her teeth in the bathroom, talking to me while she did so. I couldn't understand a word she said, but I agreed out loud with her. Upon returning to the bedroom, she shut the lights out and climbed in, "Can you set the alarm, then?"

"What for?" I asked, "It's Saturday."

"And we're going to brunch."

"What? Where? Why?"

"I just told you, Dick."

"No you didn't."

She rolled over to face me and set a hand on my cheek, "We are going to Wayne Manor for brunch tomorrow at ten. Then Selina and I are going to work on some wedding things and also sort through baby clothes and set up the nursery."

"What am I supposed to do?"

She shrugged before leaning in and kissing me softly, "You get to spend some high quality time with your father."

"Why?"

"Because he needs support from a man who is not in a pointless argument with his significant other."

I yawned and rolled over onto my back, reaching to set the alarm, "They're still fighting? They seriously need to get out more."

We woke at nine, showered and shared a mug of coffee before setting out for Bristol. Barbara made me stop at a floral shop to pick up a vase of flowers I couldn't pronounce the name of but it made my car smell of old lady's perfume. As we pulled out of the small lot, I did a double take as a familiar face behind the wheel of a BMW pulled in. I looked over to Barbara and asked if that had been who I thought it had but she hadn't seen him.

Upon arriving, we snuck through the service entrance, the aroma of a traditional Alfred Pennyworth Brunch greeting us.

"Good morning, Al," I said while entering the kitchen, flowers in hand.

Apron on and sleeves rolled up, Alfred stood post at the stove range, tending to a number of Teflon coated skillets. He turned slightly, smiling, "Good morning, Master Dick, Ms. Barbara."

Barbara set out to find Selina taking the flowers with her, but I chose to stay behind to figure out how to convince Alfred to let me taste test the quiche I smelt as soon as he took it out of the oven…

Thinking back to the flower shop, I asked, "Hey, Al, where's Bruce?"

"He stepped out to run a brief errand, sir, but he should be back momentarily."

"I think I saw him at the florist," I said before pausing, summoning a way of asking how the lord and lady of the manor were. I had the words and was prepared to say them but luckily the service door opened up and stopped me from doing so. Bruce appeared in the doorway with a much nicer vase of flowers than the one Barbara and I had just picked up: a dozen red roses in full bloom in a bed of Baby's Breath. He sported a thundercloud gray sweater and jeans, giving off the aura of "casual weekend". When he spotted me, the look that came over his face reminded me of what he looked like when diffusing an explosive.

"Dick."

"Hey, Bruce. Didn't realize it was National Random Floral Purchase Day."

"What?"

I nodded towards the nook, "Barbara and I brought up flowers."

If he got the joke, he didn't show it, "Where is Barbara?"

I nodded but Alfred spoke, "She sought out Ms. Selina, sir. No doubt to plan out the day's activities."

Before any of us could speak, Selina entered the kitchen through the nook doorway, "Dick thanks for the flowers, that was sweet..." she paused and looked over the room's occupants, both floral and fauna. She then said that Barbara wanted coffee and that she wanted to see me. I stepped aside and went about pouring Barbara and myself coffee, doing my best to hide my attentive staring.

He pulled up the sleeves on his sweater before approaching her, kissing her cheek and saying, "Good morning."

Outwardly, Selina looked pleased to see him, but no doubt anger simmered beneath her slight smile and bright eyes. She took the flowers, admired them for a moment before about facing. After taking the twelve roses out of the vase and setting them on the wooden cutting board that Alfred had used to dice vegetables for the quiche, Selina proceeded to slice up the roses into fresh potpourri. When she faced her husband again, her smile had widened and the look in her eyes caused a chill to travel down my spine.

The three us watched in silence as she walked out of the room. After a minute, Alfred lowered the heat on the stovetop and went about picking up the compost pile remains of the token of affection Bruce had bought not fifteen minutes earlier.

The shell-shocked look on his face was a rare sight and one I couldn't stand seeing for another minute. I took the full mugs into one hand and then walked over to Bruce, resting my palm on his shoulder. I looked up at him and said, "It could have been worse, Bruce."

"How?" he asked quietly.

Fighting a smile, I answered, "Instead of buying roses, you could have jumped out of the closet naked with champagne… Just imagine what she would have cut up then."

^V^

"Too girly?" I asked Barbara as I held up a lavender set of infant pajamas.

She shook her head and continued sorting through the tote of crib bedding.

After the brunch, where Mattie was the only sociable Wayne at the table, Barbara and I had spent almost two hours sketching out arrangement of the tables, buffet, flowers and anything else that was going to bring the second weeding reception at Wayne Manor to life. Dick and Bruce had disappeared and Mattie had stayed with us, dutifully working on a coloring book of horse breeds. A little after noon, Bruce peeked his head into the study and took Mattie to get changed for her riding lesson.

Sans the flower girl, we made our way upstairs to the nursery. The furniture was just as it had been for Mattie, but the room was barren of its curtains, bedding and baby clothes. Although early, I wanted to go through everything in order to figure out what to buy for the newest arrival long before he arrived.

He…

As Barbara unfolded a quilt, she looked over at me as I sat in the rocking chair, eyeing a pair of mittens, "So have you picked out any names?"

I shrugged before saying, "I was thinking about Jonathan Thomas, after Dick's father and Bruce's…"

"That would be nice."

Nodding, I bit my lip briefly; "I asked Bruce if he liked it last night, but I'm pretty sure he was asleep because he asked me for some more frozen yogurt."

She laughed a bit and I did as well.

Barbara sighed before saying "Dick said Bruce got you roses this morning."

"And I chopped them up with a clever… So much for being the nice, understanding wife…"

Barbara smiled but didn't say anything. She had the unfortunate luxury of being caught in the middle whenever a feud formed in Wayne Manor.

I folded a tiny sweater, "So what's going on in the big city, I've become rather secluded lately…"

"Not much. A few unsuccessful drug runners brought under… The only major thing that went down last night was a murder at a rehab center. Actually, it was one that Bruce helped fund to have---."

"Coleman? What happened?" I asked, the concern in my voice a hair higher than the general concern I usually showed. She briefed me that it had been a female social worker attacked in the service alley next to the center, stabbed and purse stolen with little evidence to help lead the investigation. I began subconsciously gnawing my lower lip halfway through before I finally asked her, "What was her name?"

Barbara looked up at me, as if my question had been completely out of context, "Why?"

A knot was forming in my stomach but I did my best to remain outwardly calm, "Humor me, Barbara."

"Andrea Chase-Miller."

My heart skipped a beat as my breathing hitched. A hand crept up to cover my open mouth as Barbara asked what was wrong. I replied, "A friend of Mattie's… That his… That was his mother. Oh no…"

Barbara went silent for a moment, no doubt reveling in the fact that a random crime had once again become a personal trauma. She went on to summarize how Tim had spent the entire night working on the single case but I couldn't focus on her words. All I could picture was Andrea's curly brown hair, bright smile and charming laugh. I had met her and her husband, Tom, a number of times at school functions and soccer games. A positively charming woman who had sat by me at the chance PTA meeting I had attended a few months ago. We had text messaged each other back and forth through the evening about how the chairwoman's slip was showing…

I did my best to keep my mind elsewhere as we worked diligently for another hour. Dick popped his head in and asked when Barbara was going to be ready to head out. She looked over at me and I waved her off. Her protest was, "Are you going to be okay?"

I nodded, "I'm fine."

Dick's brow arched in confusion and Barbara explained how I had known the victim. His face lit up, no doubt a hundred and one investigative questions coming to mind but he suppressed them. He offered his condolences before saying he was going to go down to start the car and sneak some buttermilk biscuits from the kitchen.

I went down with Barbara, thanked them again for coming up for the day before watching them head to the car and drive off. I had turned to go back into the house when a heard a horn-honk halfway down the drive. I looked back to see Dick driving away and Bruce coming up the drive, but only Dick was enthusiastic about the chance passing.

When Bruce passed me heading to the garage, Mattie waved from the backseat, her riding helmet still attached to her head and her grin as big as ever. I went to the kitchen and met them as they walked in, "How was your lesson?"

"Great. We trotted and cantered over ground poles today and Rocky hopped over almost every one of them," Mattie wrapped her arms around my legs before turning back to face her father, "It was funny, wasn't it Dad?"

"Hilarious," he commented before looking up at me with a slight smile before looking back down at Mattie, "Why don't you get washed up and changed, kitten."

Mattie looked at both us separately before heading to the doorway, her boot heels clicking on the tiled floor. When they went silent, Bruce stepped pass me and poured himself a glass of water. He offered to get me one as well, but I shook my head.

"Did you and Barbara get everything worked out?"

I nodded, "Yeah, for the most part. I might go down this week to help finish things up for the wedding though."

He drank in long, slow sips, draining the glass before saying, "Good to hear. Wish my day had been as productive as yours."

"Oh?" I watched as Bruce nodded as he set the glass down on the counter. "How has my day been more productive than yours?" I asked as I approached him.

"Well, you made potpourri…" he raised a finger, counting off, "Hosted brunch… Then you helped arrange wedding events and organized the nursery…"

"And what have you done?" I smiled.

He leaned back against the corner, "Stood idly by while you made potpourri… Then I sulked around the library for a while… Then I dozed in the lounge while Mattie rode."

I shook my head, "Pathetic."

"I know," he sighed before asking, "Where's Alfred?"

"Stepped out for a bit, said he had to take care of some things in town."

When I asked him what he had planned for the evening he shrugged, "Actually I was thinking dinner out…" His eyes pleaded for approval, belying the stern look he was attempting.

I arched an eyebrow, "What's the occasion?"

"To celebrate our first civil conversation of the week."

I smirked before reaching up to kiss his cheek, "I'll call Alfred to sit for Mattie. You make the reservations."

"Already done."

I shook my head and turned to go check on Mattie, muttering, "Aren't we the confident one…"

^V^

At half-past eight, Selina and I were sharing a plate of Tiramisu cheesecake at a small Italian eatery just outside of Bristol.

Alfred had returned to the Manor and agreed to watch over Mattie for the evening. He had told us not to worry and to enjoy the night as long as we wanted to, his peacekeeping ways overflowing into his words. I drove us to the restaurant where we were seated on the empty wrought iron and stone terrace, overlooking one of the tributaries of the Gotham River. Despite the fact that we could of, and that probably we both wanted to, neither of us spoke more than a few words during dinner.

At least not vocally.

Physically we spoke volumes.

Seated adjacent to one another, my hand rarely left hers, and my eyes only traveled from her face when I reached for my water glass. She nudged my shin with her stocking clad foot as she carelessly scanned the dessert list.

Licking her spoon clean, she looked over at me and said, "You know Terry, the little boy in Mattie's class?" I nodded, no idea why she randomly questioned me. Before I could ask, she continued, "His mother was murdered last night. Mugging gone bad at the Coleman Rehab center."

The romantic glow of the terrace lighting and the flicker of the table candles offered barely useful illumination, but did little to hide my sudden change in posture. Even after being out of the cape and cowl for months, I still had to fight back the shift from billionaire to Batman. I had a feeling it was going to be a battle I would face until the day I died.

Without being asked, Selina gave me the few details that Barbara had given her. She said that there was nothing to work from and that Tim was already over his head with work.

She bit her lip, "Maybe you could take a look at what they have. Give them a different perspective or something."

I had not known the child's mother to any extent beyond a name. In fact, I barely even knew the child himself, despite him attending Mattie's birthday party and his participation in the same indoor and outdoor soccer team that she belonged to…

"I'll look into it," I said softly before adding, "We'll have to tell Mattie."

She nodded then squeezed my hand; "I was kind of hoping she could get her first experience with death from a dead goldfish… not her friend's mother."

Since my grandparents and relatives had passed on long before I was born….

Since I had been too young to acknowledge the families of the few children I called friends…

Since I had no proverbial first pet goldfish….

The murder of my parents had acted as my first taste of death.

Another squeeze registered and I looked down to see Selina's slender fingers entwined with mine, "Tomorrow morning."

"Hm?"

"We can tell her tomorrow morning, spend the day with her in case she's upset."

I nodded, "Sounds like a plan."

We arrived home a little after nine. I checked in on Mattie while Selina drew a bath up. As I walked into the room silently, I noticed Mattie's eyes tighten, a telltale sign she was pretending to sleep. I sat on the edge of the bed carefully and reached over to pet Taffy's head. When I brought my hand back I set it on my daughter's stomach before gently tickling her through the sheets.

Her laughter was instant and she brushed my hand away, "Daddy, I was sleeping…"

"Liar."

She sat up and hugged me before leaning back against her pillows, "How was dinner?"

"Good," I paused, "How was your night?"

She smirked before fighting a yawn, "Good. Alfred and I played checkers… and we made ice cream sundaes… Dad?"

"Yes, kitten?"

"How come I couldn't go with you to dinner?"

"It was late. And besides, your mom and I needed to talk."

"About what?"

About how your friend Terry won't be in school next week because he'll be burying his mother…

"A few things," I replied.

"About fighting?"

I looked down at her, doing my best to hide my surprise, "What about fighting?"

She shrugged, "Alfred said you weren't going to fight anymore. That it was a… fool… a foolish argument but it was over."

Only Alfred, I thought to myself before saying, "He's right. It was. But no more arguing."

"No more being a fool?" she asked, the smirk on her face frighteningly similar to Dick's.

"Nope."

I kissed her good night, tucked her in and closed the door halfway before heading down the hall to the master bedroom. As I stepped through and shut the door behind me, the aroma of jasmine wafted towards me. I removed my suit coat, tie and shoes before following the scent to the bathroom. Selina was in the tub, the bubble topped water reaching her collarbone. She had her head back, eyes closed and for a moment, I wondered if she had fallen asleep.

"Mattie asleep?" Selina asked without moving.

"No, but she's fine," I replied before unbuttoning my shirt.

We shared the bath for three-quarters of an hour before getting out and drying off. As she slipped into bed, Selina looked over at me as I donned a robe and loafers, "Where are you going?"

"Going to see what I can do to help."

Selina bit her lower lip, still sitting up in bed with a hand on her swollen abdomen, "Oh." She laid down against the pillows, drawing the blankets up over her body. I walked over and switched off the bedside light, "I'll be up later."

When I kissed her, she nibbled on my lower lip, "Better not be too late, Mr. Wayne."

When I reached the grandfather clock, it was just after ten. I changed the minute hand and waited as the entrance unlocked an opened itself. Leaving most of the lights off, I navigated in the dark down the steps and towards the computer bay.

I still had yet to adjust to the fact that the costume vault held suits and disguises tailored to another man. That the Batmobile was only used during inclement weather or long patrols. There were other changes to the Cave that were less important but perhaps more invasive. The training area, where the most focused martial arts were learned and performed, housed a small stereo system, where a fifteen CD changer held discs of alternative rock and hip hop music. One of the small refrigerators in the laboratory had been emptied of its contents and filled with PowerAde, Cherry Coke and Snickers ice cream bars.

When I had reported my findings to Selina, she had laughed and said that the Cave was only a ping-pong table and a mini-bar away from becoming an actual finished basement.

I sat at the computer console and booted up the system. Within seconds, Barbara's face appeared on one of the smaller monitors, "Long time no see."

After a glance at my watch I said, "It's been less than seven hours."

"It's a joke."

I didn't grace her with a reply.

She brushed back a lock of auburn hair; "I meant it's been a while since I've seen you down there."

"I've been busy."

"As have we," she retorted.

The truth was that the background work that Oracle had mastered over the years came easy to me. Sitting there, watching on as the real work was done out on the streets of Gotham, that was the challenge. Barbara must have seen it over the last few months, the look of frustration or aggravation on my face, because she had commented on it more than once. As a result, over the last few weeks I had forgone the near nightly trip down to the Cave, letting them work on their own.

But not tonight.

"Oracle, get me up to speed on the Miller murder."

"You got it, boss."

^V^


	6. What Lies Ahead: VI

Title: What Lies Ahead: VI

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: Dick and Barbara's special day arrives… As does another surprise.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Medical information courtesy of Dr. Todd.

^V^

At the sight of raspberry jam filled crepes, blueberry muffins and fresh orange juice, Ms. Selina sat up in bed, a smile growing on her face, "Alfred, you are a godsend."

I placed the breakfast tray across her blanket-covered lap, and nodded, "I do my best, Ms. Selina."

"That's for sure," she carefully sipped the juice then set the glass down before swatting at her slumbering husband's rear, "Bruce, Alfred brought us breakfast in bed."

He grumbled softly and pulled the covers over his head.

"Fine more for us," she said softly as she caressed her abdomen.

I crossed the room and opened up the drapes, revealing the brilliant morning sun. The weather forecast for July tenth was a high of eighty, slight western breeze of up to eight miles and hour with a smattering of clouds. A perfect day for a wedding.

At half past six that morning, I had delivered Ms. Barbara's breakfast and Irish coffee to her, in addition to giving her thirty minutes of company. She spent the time working through her meal, downing the drink and sharing her concerns of the day. Having lived through Master Bruce and Ms. Selina's wedding years earlier, I had anticipated such worry and planned accordingly.

My seven 'o clock visit to Master Dick's room had been less welcomed.

He was still asleep, and when I roused him, it took nearly ten minutes for him to become a functioning human being. Once sitting in bed, I set the breakfast tray before him and watched as he poured his traditional "three healthy heaping scoops" of sugar into his coffee before guzzling the scalding liquid. He claimed the gift to swallow such a concoction was the result of his years as a police officer.

I considered it to be an act of God.

From there I returned to the kitchen to see Leslie and Miss Mattie in the breakfast nook eating the blueberry muffins I had prepared that morning in addition to eggs and toast that I had not. Leslie Thompkins was one of the very few trusted souls I allowed to make use of the Wayne kitchen.

"Morning, Alfred!" the young girl smiled before biting into her toast.

"Good morning, Miss Mattie. Are you ready for the day's festivities?"

She nodded, swallowed then answered, "Yep. Leslie's said she was going to help me get ready. And braid flowers into my hair."

I looked over to her as she said, "Just like your mom and Barbara."

After excusing myself, I retrieved the spiced rice bag that had been heating in the microwave and then prepared a tray for Master Bruce and Ms. Selina before making the trek upstairs once more. Whether it was the stress of helping put together the final details of the wedding or simply that fact that she was thirty-three weeks pregnant, or a combination of the two, Ms. Selina had fallen ill the night before Master Dick and Ms. Barbara were to be wed.

She had been busy for most of the day, mostly tasks that allowed her to rest with her feet up, but even still she had commented on cramps in her legs and lower back. Master Bruce had massaged her muscles to no avail and had suggested she spend the day in bed. To no surprise, Ms. Selina refused and said she would take a nap later that afternoon. After dinner, Master Bruce had left his post at the dining room table helping in the assembly of centerpieces in order to see her to bed. I brought up her favorite peppermint tea only to be informed by Master Bruce that she was already asleep.

"Not much longer, sir," I had said to him as we watched her sleep.

"Thank God for that," he had smirked before he headed back downstairs.

A full night's sleep had done wonders for her disposition and appetite. We entered in a light conversation of the day's events, more so to rouse Master Bruce from bed than for the sake of being social. After ten minutes, Master Bruce sat up in bed pushed back the blankets before staggering towards the bathroom, muttering about early birds choking on the worm.

After a moment of silence, I asked, "How are we fairing today?"

She wiped a spot of jam from her lips before replying, "I guess I forgot how much fun late term pregnancy was… Then again Mattie was pretty easy, hardly knew she was in there until the end. Guess this one wants to be a showoff…"

"He is his father's son."

"As well as his mother's," Master Bruce's voice came from the bathroom.

She stuck her tongue out in the his direction before looking back at me, "Actually, I do feel better… cramps in my legs have moved north to my back."

I had anticipated that to some level she would have been in a state of tenderness and smiled as I offered the heated spice bag. Her eyes widened with awe as she took it and placed it behind her lower back. "You truly are a godsend."

"And I truly do my best," I smiled and asked if she required anything else.

"You've done more than enough. Go eat your own breakfast."

On my way back towards the staircase, Miss Mattie passed by, skipping towards her parents' room. I decided to stop off on the second floor to briefly check in with the previously comatose Master Dick and was surprised to see him at the counter of his private bath. With a towel about his waist, he was precariously shaving his jaw line while whistling lowly.

"I see you are in much better spirits, sir."

"Sugar rush from the coffee," he smirked as he rinsed the razor blade in the sink, "Figure I'll be sleeping in about an hour or so."

"As long as you are conscious and able at the altar, Master Dick."

He turned his head toward me and flashed his trademark roguish grin, "Yeah, bet Babs wouldn't appreciate that."

"Nor the rest of the wedding party."

He went back to shaving, "I'll snag me an espresso about ten minutes before the ceremony," he paused for a moment as he retrieved a hand towel and wiped his face clean, "Everyone else up?"

I nodded and caught him up to date with my rounds of the house. I then added, "Ms. Barbara's father and brother and due at nine and I believe the Kent's had planned on arriving shortly before."

"Good. I know Tim and Cass were coming a little after eight. And Roy, Wally and Garth wanted to come early, but…"

"You looked out for their well-being by informing them to come at a later time," I finished for him.

"Their well-being? I was thinking more about the Manor's. And Bruce's."

Since his retirement, Master Bruce had secluded himself from the superhero community as it was. A single look at the confirmed guest list showed a number of very close associates of Master Dick's that Master Bruce had not seen in months, if not years.

"I still can't believe they don't know…"

There was no need to clarify. I asked, "Are you certain they are unaware of Master Tim's new role?"

He nodded and returned the towel to the rack, "The other week I was talking to Wally and he asked me if life had settled enough for Bruce to come back to the JLA. Guess his broody presence is sorely missed."

For years I had endured Master Bruce's ranting about the immature super-humans that made up the Justice League of America. And yet, despite his disfavor towards those with powers beyond imagination, he had managed to develop bonds with each of them, most notably the last son of Krypton. He had been the only one that Master Bruce confided in when he had retired.

A sign of friendship. Of trust.

"How's Barbara?" Master Dick asked suddenly.

"Well, anxious, but well."

He nodded as he turned and leaned against the counter's edge, "I bet."

"And you sir?" A look of question came over his face and I asked, "How are you fairing, Richard?"

His incisors tugged at his lower lip briefly, "Good. I'm ready. I mean, we've been through everything else that life's thrown at us, how bad can marriage be?"

^V^

Marriage was a death sentence. And the best piece of evidence was right in front of me.

Superman was the strongest being on earth, laser vision strong enough to slice through buildings and the ability to fly into outer space with minimal effort.

Clark Kent, however, was lugging his and his wife's suitcases awkwardly in one hand and was gently carrying a silver wrapped package in the other, all the while trying to blow a lock of bangs away from his glasses.

For some reason, it made me smile.

And thankfully, he saw it as a greeting, "Tim, good to see you. I'd shake your hand but Lois seems to think my part-time job is as a bellhop."

Lois, who was admiring a vase of lilies on the credenza opposite the walk-in coat closet, sighed, "Fine," she walked over and took the gift from Clark, "Where are they collecting the wedding presents?"

"Down that hall, second room on the right," I pointed but she had already taken off.

Clark drew a breath before saying, "Sorry. She wanted to fly in last night, but there was a bit of a crisis in Brazil." I nodded, recalling the news footage of the plane crash. He continued, "But I promised her we could stay the weekend, pending World War III."

When Lois returned I led them up to their second floor guest room. Halfway up, we spotted Bruce descending the stairs, Mattie at his heels. When the child spotted the new guests, she cried out their names and skipped down the stairs, miraculously never missing a step. Before Bruce could call out after her, Clark snatched Mattie up and hugged her, "Hey there, kid."

She pecked his cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck and then leaned over and did the same to a grinning Lois. Clark then put her down and asked her if she was ready for the wedding. She beamed up at him, "Yep. I can't get my dress on yet though because Dad said I shouldn't get it dirty," she looked up at Bruce with a pout labeling him as the arch nemesis of the human race.

Bruce cleared throat and told his daughter to find Leslie.

She slowly walked down the remaining steps and the turned right at the bottom towards the kitchen. I watched on as Bruce took the chance to formally welcome his guests. For Clark, a firm shake and a mumbled "Glad you could make it." For Lois, a fraction of a smile and a peck on the cheek. He then looked at me as if to say _Carry on with your task, young grasshopper_.

I nodded towards the second floor landing, "Uh, your suite is this way," suddenly feeling Clark's painful role of being a bellhop. After leading them to their room, I stood by long enough to listen to Lois ask about the upcoming Wayne child before excusing myself to return to my welcoming post in the atrium.

Just as I made it to the bottom of the stairwell, I noticed two figures standing in the open doorway. Same size, same build, practically the same stance. At the rehearsal dinner, Dick had introduced them as Jim Squared.

I stepped forward and offered my hand, "Morning, Jim."

The former commissioner of Gotham City nodded and shook my hand briefly before asking, "Is that the infamous pre-wedding breakfast I smell?"

I laughed and said, "It's set up in the breakfast nook this time." I then glanced over at his son, Jim. James Jr. James Gordon the second.

Neither Barbara nor Jim had mentioned him in the last decade. In fact, I hadn't learned of his existence until a few months before the wedding. While on patrol, Dick had filled me in on how following Gordon's divorce with his first wife, Barbara, she and young Jim had returned to their hometown of Chicago but that had been after "our red headed wonder" Barbara had been adopted by Jim when her father, Gordon's brother Roger, had died. I had stared at him blankly for a moment before Dick shrugged, "Typical confusing family soap opera nonsense."

Jim, Jr. had flown in from Chicago a week before the wedding, spending most of his time touring Gotham with his father. Wednesday, Bruce had reserved a section of Epaule's for a private dinner. I had been surprised that he hadn't hosted the dinner at the Manor, but later I realized that the latest Gordon was not part of the Family. And having dinner in a public setting would prevent the conversation from turning dark.

Over the course of dinner, I realized that I had never seen Jim Gordon so happy. He was practically beaming. The return of his son and the fast-approaching wedding of his daughter…

"So, Jim, are you in school?" Dick had asked midway through the meal.

Jim Jr. nodded, wiped his clean mouth before answering in a soft baritone, "Actually, I graduated this May."

I smirked, "So did I."

He had smiled, "Imagine that. Where did you go?"

"Right here in Gotham at GSU, Business Communications."

Jim Jr.'s brow rose, "Impressive, a Master's at your age…"

"Uh," I paused, "Actually, it was my Bachelor's. Kind of flopped around on my major for a while, so I ended up falling behind."

He had replied, "Ah… Well I just finished my master's in the fine arts. Interior Architecture."

He was fourteen months older than me. I swallowed my pride and smiled, "Congratulations. Do you have any plans?"

Jim Jr. spent ten minutes explaining the under appreciation for internal architecture and explained the firm he was developing that would consult and design interiors for the greater Chicago area. Barbara mentioned that her father and Dick had recently started up a security consultant firm.

"Oh? You're involved in criminal law, Dick?"

He nodded sheepishly, "I was a cop for a few years, worked the beat for a while before making my way to homicide."

"And do you still work on the force?"

He shook his head, no doubt reliving the hellish last year he spent in the Bludhaven Police Department in a moment, "No, I kind of burned out early. And then I was involved in a pretty messy shootout, realized I might be better off in a position without bullets whizzing by all the time."

Cass smirked and covered her mouth with a napkin. The night before that dinner, Nightwing had been in the whizzing presence of a few hundred bullets after stumbling across an arms shipment that had gone sour.

At first, I hadn't taken to the youngest Gordon. I suppose I had expected someone more like Jim Gordon or Barbara. Later, Cass had reminded me that he hadn't grown up in Gotham, let alone with the Commissioner. As a result, when I spent the day with the "wedding men", namely both of the Jim Gordons, and Dick, I had a much better attitude towards the guest from Chicago.

After a day of touring the city, busting on Dick and sampling a few of Gotham's most treasured sports bars, I had found the lighter side to Jim Gordon, Jr. In fact, I had found that we had a lot in common aside from age. He was in a slowly developing relationship with a young woman back home, Maureen. She had planned on coming out for the week before the wedding but could not get the time off from work. However she was flying in from Chicago the morning of the wedding. She was then to be driven from the airport to Wayne Manor by a private Wayne Enterprises driver, hopefully to arrive just before the ceremony began.

I glanced at my watch to see it was a little after nine, less than two hours before the wedding.

Before I could ask either of them if they had heard anything from Maureen, I heard footsteps from behind me. I turned to see Clark and Lois descending the stairs, but no Bruce in sight. Clark must have used his x-ray vision to read my mind for he looked back up the staircase, "He went to check on Selina. Said she wasn't feeling well."

"She's seven months pregnant, who can blame her," Lois added.

For some reason, I thought back to when Selina had been pregnant with Mattie. Bruce was still lost in the fog of amnesia, but even then he knew he loved Selina. She had moved into the manor and he was at her side nearly every moment from the third trimester to the birth of their child. The way he had tended to his soon to be wife and mother of his child had been unreal at the time.

But now, it seemed unreal to not have him doting about his family.

Even if it is with a shadow of a Bat-glare on his face.

^V^

"How's that?"

I opened my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror. Selina had just finished pinning the flower buds into my crown of hair, flawlessly I noted. Facing back to her, I smiled, "Perfect."

"Just like mine, Barbara!" Mattie called out from her chair on the other side of the room. Dressed and ready to go, she and Cass had been playing checkers for the last half hour. I looked over at her, wondering if Mattie could get any cuter.

Selina said, "Close your eyes, let's hit this bad boy up with some more hairspray."

With my eyes closed, I listened as she coated my hair with fast-acting spray and as Lois entered the room. She had been sent on a mission to find out whether or not Jim's girlfriend had arrived yet. From her lamented sigh, I determined that she hadn't but asked anyway.

"She found the driver but they're caught in traffic. But they'll be here in a half hour tops."

Thirty minutes before my wedding.

Our wedding.

I took a deep breath, inhaling a lungful of aerosol fumes. Fighting the urge to sneeze I sat back in my chair and stared at myself in the mirror for a long silent minute. I had done so for much longer earlier that morning, simply staring at my reflection.

Barbara Louise Gordon-Grayson.

Or as Dick had joked the other night, BL to the GG.

It was amazing what a half of a bottle of wine did to his maturity level.

God, I could I have gone for a whole bottle of wine right then and there…

I looked over to see Selina sitting down at one of the leather chairs, fighting a yawn, "Tired already?"

"I hate to say it, but I'll be napping when everyone's eating cake later…"

I managed a smile, "Sounds like a plan to me."

There was a soft knock at the door and then a quiet and definitely male voice, "Can I come in?"

I smiled before answering, "Sure thing, Dad."

The door opened slowly before he peered in. He offered a smile to the various women getting ready in the room and then stepped in. "Maureen just called. Twenty minutes out. Also, they said to come up here, make sure everyone was ready."

His eyes caught on me, and for a moment his face froze in a mixed expression of joy and concern. It was then I realized he had only seen the dress in a plastic garment bag, never on my body. It was strapless, intricate lace woven into the bodice with a fitted skirt reaching just below my ankles. He closed the distance between us in short, staggered steps as he managed, "Wow… You look…" he leaned in and kissed my cheek, "Stunning."

"And to think all I was going for was marvelous," I took his hand into mine and squeezed it gently.

"Well, you look marvelous already," he smirked before letting my hand go. He then looked around the room again, "Well, I was expecting to see you girls still getting ready."

Mattie spoke up from her seat, "We're ladies, not girls."

I couldn't help but laugh as my father apologized to youngest of the ladies in the room.

He then suggested that the ladies make their way downstairs so that a certain lady could marry a certain gentleman. Mattie seemed pleased with herself and followed Cass out the door as Dad held the door for them. I looked back to see Selina getting up and checking her dress in the mirror one last time.

"You look fine," I offered.

"Fine like a blimp with swollen ankles."

I smiled at her as she pulled back one more strand of raven hair before turning to face me, "All right, last second for us to bail and run off to the Caribbean where we can be pampered by young, tan native men in loincloths."

"Nah, that's what I'm doing for my honeymoon."

To qualm the confusion on Dad's face, I explained that in the week before the wedding, Selina and I had made numerous jokes to ease the stress of last minute preparations, among them the fact that I would be the whitest girl on the beach. From there, it had gone to me becoming the auburn haired goddess of a new cult. Dick had walked in the middle of one of our more delirious moments to see us sketching my primitive sacrificial head mask I would wear.

He had muttered and left, "Bruce wasn't joking when he told me girls were weird…"

"Well, I'm going to get a head start, if I'm not down there in thirty minutes, send Search and Rescue," Selina touched my shoulder briefly on her way out, "And no last minute fruit punch on your way out. I know you're older than Mattie, but even I don't trust you in white…"

I laughed and watched her leave, "I'll try to resist the urge."

Her laughter echoed in the hallway.

When I looked back to Dad, I saw the look of confusion on his face. He shrugged, "Girls are weird. Sorry… Ladies are weird."

I shook my head and started towards the door, "Well, boys have cooties so there."

He laughed and followed me to the elevator, "Fair enough."

As we made our way downstairs, I thought how odd it was that it was the first time we had been alone together since I had him over for dinner over two weeks ago. He had done his best to keep talk geared away from the wedding but he finally caved in when I brought out the cheesecake for dessert, "Barbara, I have something to say, I just need to get it out, no interruptions."

I had nodded as I sliced and served.

"I want you to know that I'm really glad that uh… You know you and Dick… That this is…" he had sighed before continuing, "This was easier when I was talking to Frank."

We had locked eyes, and somehow I knew exactly what he was trying to say. And luckily, he was able to say them for his own sake, "I'm glad you and Dick made this work. I don't think I would have been able to live out my years knowing you two gave up on each other. On love."

I had kissed his cheek and asked him if he wanted coffee with his cake.

As we arrived on the ground floor, I felt his cool hand on my bare shoulder and looked up at him with a grin, "Ready to send me off into the world of marriage?"

He snickered, "Been waiting since you were trying on old slips and high heels, with my fishing net as your veil," he then leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Beautiful bride then and now."

We progressed towards the French doors that lead to the stone paved courtyard where Dick and I would exchange vows and rings to become man and wife. I managed a quick laugh before the audience rose at my presence, "But at least now my head doesn't smell like trout."

^V^

"… And do you, Richard John Grayson take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?"

Despite the fact that a bullfrog had taken up residence in my larynx, I managed a reply in a cool, collected voice, "I do."

"And do you Barbara Louise Gordon take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?"

Her green eyes were shimmering in the sunlight as she answered, "I do."

Reverend Harold Princeton quietly closed the bible he had brought, although had not read a single word from it, and proudly announced, "And now, by virtue of the authority vested in me, I pronounce you man and wife… You may kiss the bride."

" 'Bout time," I muttered before leaning in and placing my lips on hers. She nibbled my lower lip and growled something that remotely sounded like, "Behave yourself, Richard."

Although there were over fifty close family and friends standing and applauding, I really didn't notice, even as I picked Barbara out of her chair and carried her back down the aisle. Before anyone could catch up, I snuck into the house and ducked into an open room, surprised to see it was the reading room overlooking the courtyard. I sat us down on one of the leather couches and laid my head back, letting out a long sigh.

"Going to make it tough guy?" Barbara asked as she rested her head on my chest. I managed a shrug. She patted my collarbone, "That's what you get for going out the night before…"

Roy and Wally had convinced me to go out for a low-key Bachelor's party. And silly me, I actually thought it would be a quick drink at a bar, maybe some pool or cards and then a hard pat on the back before bidding each other good night. When I had headed out, dressed casually in jeans, a sweater and my leather jacket, Barbara shook her head at me.

"What?" I had asked, "I'll be back by midnight."

"Have you forgotten who you are going out with?"

"Oh, come on, that was forever ago, Wally's matured and Roy… Well Roy's learned to spell the word mature."

She had approached me and squeezed my hand gently before scraping her freshly tended fingernails across my inner wrist, "All I'm saying is if you show up at the altar tomorrow with one of your eyebrows shaved off and 'I like balls in my face' written on your forehead in permanent marker…"

"Don't worry," I leaned in and kissed her cheek, "I'll hang out for an hour or two at their hotel and I'll be back up here before you go to bed."

I was partially right. There was no need to be concerned about facial disfigurements. But I made it back to Wayne Manor about five hours after I had intended, crawling into an empty bed smelling of bar smoke, beer and the raspberry martini that Roy had "accidentally" spilled on my head.

When Alfred had entered my room in the morning, I no doubt looked like death warmed over, but surprisingly the only remnants of the night was my foul odor and a slight haziness in my head.

Despite the fact that I was up early, the hours from when I first stepped out of bed and took my position at the altar seemed to fly by. I dressed in my room a little less than an hour before the ceremony and descended to the male holding room where Garth, Roy and Wally were picking at a platter of snacks and Tim was chatting with the Jim Gordons. But Bruce had been nowhere in sight, sending off a minor twang in my concern. Tim had been quick to explain that he had gone upstairs to check in with the women folk.

"As long as he doesn't get lost on his way back down, we'll be set," he had added with a smirk.

Bruce had returned moments later, announcing that so far everything was running smoothly and that he was banned from returning. Apparently, Bruce deemed that since it was his house that he didn't need to knock before entering… Needless to say, Jim Gordon, Sr. volunteered to do the final run upstairs before the wedding.

The physical ceremony had been perfect in every sense. The weather was perfect, Maureen arrived perfectly six minutes before the wedding, the seats were filled with perfect guests and the wedding party was finally perfectly organized. Tim stood at my side as my best man and Cass was at Barbara's as her maid of honor. We had decided on a small wedding party, namely to limit the quarrels of who would take what place. I had originally asked Bruce to be my best man and was surprised when he said, "Dick, I already have a position in the wedding party."

"What?" I had asked.

"The father of the groom…"

A soft rap on the door interrupted the first quiet moment Barbara and I had shared in far too long. We both looked over to see Mattie, dressed in her impeccably clean lavender dress, the tiny flowers in her hair bright in contrast, "Alfred said it's time for pictures."

"Oh, did he?" Barbara asked.

She nodded, "And he said if you didn't come out on your own, he was going to come in here and bring you out."

And I thought I used my little sister to get my way…

The pictures were actually more dreaded than the process of getting married. Hundreds of poses, locations, pairings… And the temperature was only getting higher. But luckily we were done within an hour and on our way inside to get ready for the reception. The toasts, the dancing, the drinks. And plate after plate of endless appetizers, entrees and desserts…

Unlike Bruce and Selina's wedding, we had gone for a more closely knit group. Mostly those who already knew the alternate lives we lead. There were a few out of the loop guests, for me there were guys from the Bludhaven Police Departments and people from college that I had somehow managed to stay in touch with. Barbara had a number of people from her college days in addition to a woman she had been friends with since kindergarten.

As the appetizers were being delivered to the tables and the band warmed up, I decided to drop over to visit some of the Haven guests. Most of them had been married and divorced by the time I had managed the courage to propose to Barbara and flooded me with warnings about the way of wedded life. From there, I dropped by the table that had somehow managed to become dominated with the younger superheroes, who then cracked jokes about how Robbie and Batgirl finally growing up.

Bypassing the table that had a number of older superheroes, I returned to the head table to take my seat beside by Barbara, pleased to see my crab stuffed mushrooms waiting for me.

I had eaten two before looking to my left, about to crack a joke to Bruce about how I had crammed six of them in my mouth on my twelfth birthday but was confused to see him missing. I swallowed, took a sip of lemon water before asking Barbara, "Where's Bruce?"

She wiped her lips, "Selina wasn't feeling well so he went to help her into bed."

"Is she all right?"

She nodded, an auburn curl finding it's way onto her brow. She pulled it back, "Yeah, just tired. I think the heat pretty much wiped her out. He said he'd be back down once she was settled in."

Just then, Mattie stepped in between Barbara and I and stood on her tiptoes to kiss both of our cheeks. I tickled her belly and asked her when she was going to get married. She rolled her eyes and said boys were gross.

It wasn't until after the entrees, a dozen slightly inebriated toasts made to the newlyweds, the cake and nearly an hour of dancing that I realized Bruce hadn't returned.

As much as I wanted to sneak upstairs to check in on things, I knew Barbara would have my head. So instead, I hunted Alfred down and asked him to check in on them. He paused briefly before saying there was no need to, as they were no longer upstairs.

"Oh, they came back down, I didn't see them…" I began searching the fast filling dance floor, the tables... As I realized they weren't anywhere in sight, I fought the growing weight in my gut, "Alfred, where the hell are they?"

^V^

"This is insane, Bruce, we don't need to go to the hospital," I sighed from the passenger seat as he sped down the highway, passing cars without hesitation. It taken all of my will to convince him not to call an ambulance to his son's wedding. And beyond that, not to drive us down in the mock ambulance he kept in the Batcave….

"Selina, it's better to be safe then sorry."

"I'm not in labor, Bruce… Damnit, slow down."

He decelerated by five miles per an hour before taking the exit for the St. Baptist Medical Center, one of the three hospitals we had decided to go to when the baby finally came.

After nearly two days of aches, cramps and fatigue, Bruce had decided that they were symptoms of premature labor. I couldn't get it through his head that it was simply late term pregnancy pains that I had to learn to deal with.

I glanced over at him, "Bruce, please, just go back home. It's Dick and Barbara's wedding, I'll pop a Motrin and I'll be fine. There's no need to miss out… Are you even listening to me?"

His eyes were glued forward as he maneuvered the streets to the emergency entrance of the hospital. A pair of ambulances was in the pull-up bay and Bruce drove passed them, pulled into a handicap spot and went about unbuckling his seat belt as he stepped out of the car. I snapped at him, "You know, a woman who is pregnant can kill her husband and get away with it due to her raging hormone levels and unstable emotional status."

He looked into my eyes, the concern in his eyes truly genuine, "I'll be right back with a wheel chair, a gurney if I can swing one."

"Great, get me an egg salad sandwich while you're at it!" I called after him.

As angry with him as I was, I knew he was just trying to protect me. Us. And I did have some concern, perhaps a millionth of a fraction as much as Bruce had, but there was still some worry. I had a number of articles proving women over the age of forty were more apt to have birth complications, miscarriages and premature babies. But I had clean bills of health from all of my recent appointments…

My door opened suddenly and I looked into his eyes, the icy blue clearer than usual. Bruce had not only managed to find a gurney, but he also wrangled a pair nurses and a gray haired woman in a doctor's coat. Bruce went to put his arm around me to help me out but I glared at him and swatted him off, "I can do it myself."

Despite that, he still left a hand on my shoulder to support me as I stood and then sat and reclined on the gurney. I closed my eyes as I was wheeled into the emergency room, pushed down a corridor, finally ending up in a trauma room. I spotted a nurse with a pair of scissors, no doubt to cut off the four thousand dollar dress I was wearing. I sat up slowly and pointed directly at her, "Don't even think it. I can get out of this if you'll let me stand up."

Without the aide of the medical staff and my husband I slid out of bed and onto my feet.

Just as I reached for the back zipper of my dress, I felt a sudden pressure in my pelvis, followed by a rush of fluid down my legs.

"Oh no…" I whispered as the doctor also noticed that my water broke. As I stood dumbfounded, they went to work on cutting off my soiled dress and putting a medical gown on me before quickly getting me back onto the gurney. Once reclined, I looked over at Bruce, my face finally reflecting the worry I had seen on his for the last hour. "Bruce, it's too soon…"

"I know, they're going take care of you. Both of you," he stepped forward, taking my hand into both of his, bringing it up to kiss my knuckles, "It's going to be okay."

A nurse began to attach cardiac recording nodes on my chest before putting the fetal heart rate monitor. It was a blur of activity as they inserted IV's, pulled blood, and recorded my vitals. All I could think of was how Bruce's hands quaked as they held mine.

I was in labor. I had two months left until I was full term. But I was in labor.

Before long, a middle-aged man in green scrubs approached my bedside, introducing himself as Dr. Tyler Bennington, chief of obstetrics. I asked him nervously what was wrong and he replied that he was going to examine me himself to see what they could do.

My hand still in Bruce's, I felt my legs being lifted and spread, felt cool, latex covered hands where no hand belonged. He asked me if I had experienced any contractions and I told him that I had only mild cramping. Bruce said that my last appointment everything had been in order.

Dr. Bennington nodded, "Understandable, but sometimes things just happen. Undue stress, change in routine or simply for no reason at all. Have you been very active lately, Selina?"

"I've been off my feet for most of the week, but still active, helping my…" My what? I thought to myself before finishing, "My step-son prepare for his wedding."

"Oh, when is he getting married?" Bennington asked.

Bruce replied, "Actually a few hours ago… The reception is right now."

Bennington looked up briefly before continuing his examination. "Unfortunately I won't be able to get you back for the Chicken Dance… There may have been some very mild contractions, covered by the cramping and fatigue… But your cervix is almost four centimeters dilated," he stood, removing his gloves, "Having passed the amniotic fluid already, I'm afraid putting a stop to the labor could endanger the baby."

"More so than delivering early?" Bruce asked, his strong, deep voice failing him.

"At this point, delivery would be the best chance. For both you and the baby."

I looked up at Bruce, squeezing his hand in hopes to get him to focus. He swallowed a gulp of air before looking back at me, "Selina, I…"

"I know," I interrupted him.

Dr. Bennington told us that I would be moved up to his wing of the hospital for observation and the eventual delivery. I was given a mild anesthetic to dull the coming contractions before they detached me from the various machines in the trauma room. Bruce, who had held on to me since we had first entered, was forced to let go when they began to move the gurney. I told him to call everyone, to let them know what was going on, but all he offered in acknowledgement was a fraction of a nod.

Not ten minutes later, I was situated in a private room, hooked back up to the monitors in addition to an oxygen cannula, of which I thought was completely unnecessary. Waiting alone for Bruce to return was torture as thousands of thoughts flooded my concerned mind. I had little knowledge of premature deliveries, let alone their effects on the baby.

Surely Bruce was drilling the doctor for every tidbit, using a cool glare and precise questioning…

"Uh," I grunted as the beginnings of a contraction took hold. As it passed sixty seconds later, I sighed, "Bruce, where are you…"

"I'm right here, " he answered as he walked in. In an instant, he was at my side, one hand woven with mine, the other already dipping the bedside washcloth in to a bowl of ice water.

"Did you get a hold of anyone?" I asked.

He nodded, "Alfred."

"Did you talk to the doctor?" I sighed as he placed the cloth on the back of my neck.

He nodded, "They want to give you…" his breathing hitched before he continued, "They want to give you Oxytocin to speed things up…" I asked him if it would affect the baby and he shook his head, "No, just speed up the dilation process. Dr. Bennington thinks the quicker we can get him out, the quicker they can treat him for…" he stopped mid-sentence.

"Treat him for what? Bruce?"

He took a moment to answer me, "He said that premature infants born at this age often… They're lungs aren't fully developed… He said there's Corticosteroid and surfactant therapies to help mature the lung tissue rapidly…" he stopped again, unable to finish as he leaned forward, resting his head on the mattress, "I'm sorry, Selina."

I turned my head to face him, kissing the top of his head, "Don't be."

"I should have brought you in this morning, maybe they could have prevented it…"

I squeezed his hand, "Don't. There was nothing you could have done… Nothing."

He didn't respond until after I went through three sets of contractions, gripping his hand and managing to keep from crying out during each one. He held onto my hand, bearing my clenching fingers without any resistance.

Eventually, he squeezed back.

^V^

He was so tiny. Five pounds. Barely sixteen inches long. He didn't even have hair, yet.

It had taken three minutes of suction and resuscitation before he uttered a noise.

Mattie had bawled and writhed in Alfred's arms when she had been born.

He had been so still… So quiet…

I was in the waiting room outside of the surgery room, desperate for word on Selina's condition. After four and half hours of labor, she had finally given birth to our son. I had been at her side, encouraging her the entire time. I kept thinking back to when Mattie had been born, how excited we had both been. But this time, fear wracked our thoughts. Not five minutes after I heard my son's first weak cry, I had heard the on and off beeping of one of the vital machines. Then a nurse had announced that Selina's blood pressure was falling.

I had squeezed her hand, asked if she was all right.

She had looked up at me, her face sweaty with the effort of delivery, "I don't know…" before her eyes rolled in the back of her head.

I had been shoved aside as orders were called out for blood gas levels, clamps to tie off arteries and an order for type specific blood from the donor bank. I demanded to know what was going on, but was simply ushered out into the hall to watch two separate groups work on Selina and our son.

Minutes later, both were rushed out of the room, the baby to the Neonatal Intensive Care ward and Selina to the obstetrics surgery wing. When the placenta had detached, it had ruptured a number of fibroids that had developed in the head of the uterus, pulling with it a number of arteries. I had to find that out from a resident who came to update me halfway through the surgery to tie off the arteries….

"Master Bruce? Master Bruce?"

I looked up to see Alfred walking briskly down the hall in my direction. I managed to get to my feet despite my mental and physical exhaustion as he finally approached me, "I know you didn't want anyone else to know about the situation, sir, but I'm afraid I had to tell them."

"Them?" I asked, my voice that of a stranger's.

He paused, "Master Dick, Ms. Barbara… Master Tim and Miss Cassandra… Mr. Gordon and his son… The Kents as well, they're in the waiting room, sir, down the hall."

"And Mattie?"

"She's with them but I have yet to tell her anything. I figured it would be best to come from you, sir." He waited a moment before asking, "Sir, please tell me…"

I collapsed into the chair, drawing attention from the receptionist who had been pouting at me all evening. After he sat beside me, I answered, "I haven't… I only saw him for a moment… I haven't been able to leave to go find out how he's doing…"

"And Selina?"

I shook my head slowly, "I don't know, Alfred. She's been in surgery for two hours now…" I looked over at him, unable to keep my bottom lip from quivering, "Alfred, I can't lose her. I can't."

Before he could offer any comfort, I heard my name being called. I turned to see Dr. Beddington, his face not broadcasting whether or not the surgery was successful. I stood and approached him, "How is she?"

"Please, sit, Mr. Wayne."

I shook my head, fighting back the dreaded thoughts I had been battling for the last two hours. Images of the man before me coming out and telling me that my wife, the woman I loved, the one person I couldn't live without was dead. "Tell me now. How is she?"

Dr. Beddington paused, "She's in recovery right now. There was a great deal of blood loss, a direct result of the damage to the uterine arteries…."

I let out the air that had trapped itself in my chest.

She was alive.

She was alive.

Shewasaliveshewasaliveshewasalive…

"Unfortunately, Mr. Wayne, the damage was so severe that we were forced to perform a hysterectomy."

She was alive.

She was… "Wh-What?"

"We had to remove her uterus to control the hemorrhaging."

She was alive… "Can I see her?"

He shook his head, "She's still recovering from the anesthesia. It will be at least an hour if not more before I can let you see her." I found myself sitting down again, unsure as what I should say next. There was a long moment of silence before I heard Dr. Bennington, "Mr. Wayne?"

I looked up slowly, "Yes?"

"Would you like to see your son?"

My son…

She was alive…

"I need… My family is waiting, I need to talk to them…"

"Understood. I'll be right here when you get back, then I can take you to him."

My son…

As Alfred and I made the walk to the waiting room down the corridor, I caught a glimpse of my other son, still wearing his tuxedo but his tie was removed and his top two buttons were undone. He must have decided to follow Alfred, and when he saw us, he jogged over, "God, Bruce, is everything all right?"

I started to tell him the little we knew when I looked down the hall even further, spotting a small figure in a lavender dress peering around the corner. When I stopped speaking, Alfred and Dick both looked as well to see Mattie walking slowly towards us.

"Dad?"

I knelt down and held out my arms, "Come here, kitten."

As she neared, I saw that tears had welled in her eyes, "Daddy?" she managed before she paused in front of me, "Where's Mom?" I pulled her in close, her tears soaking through my shirt, listening as she weakly repeated her question, "Where's Mom?"

Pressure building in my knee, I took sitting on the cold linoleum floor, arms wrapped tightly around my crying daughter's form, "She had the baby early, Mattie. The doctor's had to operate on her afterwards---."

She interrupted me, sniffling in my ear, "I want to see her."

"You can't---."

"I want to see her," she said louder.

I rubbed her back, ignoring the fact that Tim, Cassandra, Barbara and the others had made their way down the hall and were standing by, watching silently.

"You can't, Mattie, she's sleeping… but when she wakes up, you'll be the first person she sees. Okay?"

She nodded slowly before pressing her face against my chest again.

When I stood, I kept her in my arms and carried her back to the waiting area where Dr. Bennington stood at the reception desk. I nodded at him and he said, "Follow me," quietly.

Aimlessly, I followed his scrub-clad form down the hall, through double doors and passed darkened rooms and closed doors. To help calm Mattie, I buried my own concern and kept whispering in her ear that it was all right. Everything was going to be okay.

The doctor's voice caught my attention and I realized we had arrived at the NICU, "The gown is just a precautionary measure." A nurse draped a sterile gown over my shoulders, loosely tying it over Mattie's back as Dr. Bennington continued, "He's in the incubator just to keep him warm. He's been intubated until the corticosteroids take effect. Also, we've started treating him for slight anemia, but so far everything looks good… Considering."

I heard his words, and processed them on some level. But right then and there, all I could focus on was his tiny chest, rising and falling. Nearly a dozen wires and tubes were feeding him fluids, antibiotics, others recording his heart and pulse rate, checking oxygen levels in his blood, measuring urine output…

Keeping him alive.

Mattie turned her face and finally saw him. I was surprised at how calm her reaction was, considering it took every ounce of control that I had to keep from falling to pieces.

There was a moment of silence before a nurse asked, "Mr. Wayne?" I looked at her but couldn't manage a verbal response. She continued, offering a warm smile, "Did you and your wife choose a name, yet? We like to have something to call them…"

I nodded but Mattie answered, "Jonathan Thomas Wayne. Nathan for short." She waved at his sleeping form, "Welcome to the family, Nathan."

^V^


	7. What Lies Ahead: VII

Title: What Lies Ahead: VII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: The Family draws together to welcome its newest addition home.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: There is a brief excerpt from Lois Lowry's The Giver in the last POV.

^V^

"I think this definitely qualifies as a first," Tim said as we pulled up the drive of Wayne Manor.

"What's that?" I asked.

He hit the windshield wipers on and answered, "A baby party or whatever... Even when Mattie was born there was never an official party… I'm kind of interested to see the Manor decked out in 'It's a Boy!' banners."

I smirked and took a sip of my coffee, "And balloons."

We both laughed quietly as we pulled up in front of the garage. Although our spirits were high, it had not been so for the seven weeks that had lapsed since Jonathan Thomas Wayne had been born. The first week, Selina had been hospitalized following surgery, and Bruce hadn't left her side for a second. I had visited alone and with Tim a few times, once finding them both in the gurney, entwined and quaking with sobs. After she was released, they still didn't stray far, as they had practically taken up residence at the hospital, leaving only to get restless sleep at the hotel across the street or for the rare trip home for clean clothes.

As for the rest of us, we did our best to keep things going. I spent many days at the Manor, playing with Mattie, taking her to movies, riding lessons and soccer practices, doing my part in keeping her life as normal as possible. Every evening, Alfred took over and brought her down to the hospital to see her parents and on some nights, she was lucky enough to get a chance to see her baby brother.

And after nearly two months of chaos, normalcy was hopefully returning.

We jogged from the car to the garage entrance, doing our best to avoid the downpour. Before slipping through the service entrance, we took our coats off and shook them dry, hanging them up next to Alfred's old but immaculately kept wool coat. I was surprised to see the kitchen empty, and pointed it out to Tim. He inhaled deeply and I did likewise. He then added, "Where there's banana bread, there's Alfred."

We navigated the empty, quiet halls until we heard faint voices. Crossing the foyer, we made it to the den where Selina and Mattie were decorating the room with balloons.

"Hey, hope you left something for us to do," Tim smiled before entering the room.

Mattie accidentally let a helium filled balloon go before looking over and greeting us with an excited grin. Selina reached up just in time to grab onto the string, then secured it to the small ceramic weight alongside a number of other blue hued balloons.

"What are you doing here early?" Mattie asked as she walked over to us.

Tim tickled her shoulder as he answered, "While your mom and dad go to get Nathan, we're going to help you get things ready for when he comes home."

"Really?" she looked up at me for confirmation.

As I nodded, Tim replied "Yep. So put us to work."

I watched as Tim was dragged over to the balloons, and then as Mattie carefully instructed him on how to fill and tie off the balloons. As she went on to explain that five balloons were to be tied together and attached to the weight, Selina approached me, "Hey, thanks for coming up."

I shrugged, "No problem, really."

She glanced over her shoulder before looking back at me, "Well, I'm going to run upstairs and change," she passed me and made her way into the hall, muttering, "And hopefully drag Bruce out of bed."

Having not seen her in nearly a week, I was surprised at how upbeat she seemed. A week before, I had dropped in at the hospital mid-afternoon and found her in the visiting nursery. Nathan had been out of the NICU for nearly four days, living in the general infant ward. She had been sitting in a rocking chair, holding the tiny infant in her arms. When she saw me, she ushered me in with a smile and a nod.

"Hey, just thought I'd drop in quick," I had said quietly as to not disturb his slumber.

She had smiled again, "Thanks. Afraid he's tuckered out already… Had a few tests run today… Pulmonary gases, blood drawn… The works."

"Poor guy," I had whispered as I moved to stand behind Selina. Looking down, I had been amazed at how far along the baby had come in the last few weeks. He was off all forms of ventilation and assisted breathing; he had gained nearly ten pounds and had responded well to treatment for his anemia. Words of relief after such a scary start.

Bruce had walked in shortly after, dressed in worn khakis and a wrinkled long sleeved shirt. Three day's of stubble clouded his jaw and weeks of anxiety had left bags under his eyes. A look that I hadn't seen on him since shortly before he had retired from…

I could still remember sitting in the waiting room at the hospital, alongside the others still dressed from the wedding. We had spent three hours there with no word on Selina's condition. Alfred had finally gone to investigate, learning what we had feared to be true.

Trying to qualm Mattie's concerns and questions had nearly been as heart-wrenching as seeing Bruce sitting on the floor in the hallway, his daughter held tightly in his arms.

It all seemed like a lifetime ago.

Joining Tim and Mattie, I asked, "What can I do?"

Mattie looked up from her task of tying balloon strings to a ceramic weight, "Um… If you can help Tim… I can go upstairs and check the nursery."

I promised her I wouldn't let Tim mess up and smiled, thinking to myself that she was only eight years old.

Alone, Tim looked up at me, "Can I ask you something in confidence?"

"Of course," I said taking over Mattie's position as balloon weighter downer.

"I'm Batman, right?"

I nodded.

"Feared by criminals, revered bad ass superhero?"

"What are you getting at?"

He sighed, "Because Mattie definitely gave me the hairy eyeball for not tying the balloon strings on right."

I set a hand on his shoulder, "Tim, it's her baby brother's welcome home party."

He sighed and handed over a set of five balloons, "But… she was a second away from yelling at me."

"She's tense."

He rolled his eyes, "She's eight. At least physically, mentally she's well on her way to being a teenager."

Tim and I finished decorating the den by the time we heard footsteps echoing in the hall. We walked over to the doorway just in time to see Mattie skipping towards us, her parents not far behind.

"All done," Tim said, offering a proud smirk.

"Hmm," Mattie began, "Let's see…" she added walking into the room and going about a close inspection. She wasn't in there for more than thirty seconds before calling out, "Tim, can you help me put the balloons on the windows?"

As he stepped back into the room, I looked over at Selina as she said, "Everyone else should be on their way shortly, and Alfred's in the kitchen working on lunch if you're hungry."

"Okay," I nodded, my eyes drifting to Bruce's face. Shaved, showered and dressed for the day, he looked a hundred percent better then when I had last seen him. He locked eyes with me briefly before touching Selina's shoulder, "I'll bring the car up."

She glanced back, "Ok, I'll be right there." We both watched him until he disappeared out of sight. Selina then said, "We'll be back around one-thirty, they just want to do a quick discharge exam before we bring him home."

I nodded, "We'll get everything set up, don't worry."

She turned to leave, but quickly paused and looked back at me, "I think for once, I don't have to."

^V^

After finishing the den, Tim, Cass and I went to the dining room just in time to see Alfred laying out lunch. Grilled cheese sandwiches and vegetable soup, my favorite for a rainy day. I sat in Dad's chair and Cass and Tim sat together to my right.

When we started to eat, I felt a small paw touching my leg. I looked down to see that Taffy, who had followed me downstairs earlier, was sitting at my feet. I broke off a tiny piece of my sandwich and gave it to her, smiling as she licked her lips afterwards. Mom and Dad both told me not to feed her or Isis, anything but cat food or treats. But when Dad wasn't around or when he wasn't looking, Mom was always giving them bits of her food or letting them lick an ice cream bowl after she was finished. When I had asked if I could do the same, she had frowned and then said, "Only when you know who's not there."

"So are you excited, Mattie?"

"What?"

Tim repeated his question, "Are you excited? About Nathan coming home?"

I nodded and gave Taffy another piece, this time with a little bit of cheese on it.

He was about to ask another question, but was interrupted by Dick's voice echoing in the hall, "The party was today, right?"

Then Barbara, "Yes, but not for another hour or so."

"Oh… I just don't like being the losers who are first to a party, have to spend all that awkward silent time staring at the walls."

There was a pause before Barbara said, "Dick, why do I get the feeling that no matter what time you got to a party as a child, you spent a lot of awkward time staring at walls."

"I resent that… but only because it's true," he grumbled back. I turned to face the doorway just as they entered, "Hiding with the grub, I see."

"Dick!" I called out before jumping from my chair and running over to him. He wrapped an arm around my middle and lifted me into the air before turning me upside down in his arms.

I laughed uncontrollably as he started to swing me back and forth, despite Barbara saying, "Dick, maybe you should let her stay vertical until she finishes her lunch."

"Nah," he replied, continuing to shake me around, "You can eat your lunch like this can't you?"

"Yep!" I managed to answer him between giggles.

A minute later I was promptly turned right side up and set back in my chair, not even a second before Alfred walked into the room. Cass and Tim burst into laughter as Dick smiled and greeted him, "Hey there, Alfred, need any help?"

"Actually, Master Dick, I was wondering if you could tell me why there was tremendous laughter coming from this room a moment ago."

"Oh, you know me, Al, always joking around…" he said, as he went to smooth out my crazed hair before Alfred would notice.

Before Alfred could yell at Dick for rough housing with me, especially in the dining room, I asked him and Barbara if they wanted lunch. I knew Dick would say yes, he never seemed to be able to turn down food. Barbara said she would eat later, but first she had to work on my Dad's computer.

Alfred, who had left and already returned with lunch for Dick, set it before him as he sat to my right, opposite of Tim and Cass. Taffy, who had taken to hiding at the other end of the table, had returned and already was pawing at my shin.

"So, when are they getting back?" Dick asked as he picked up his water glass.

I said, "Mom said around one-thirty."

He glanced at his watch, "Only half-hour away… Hope everyone else gets here in time."

I had known that Tim and Cass and Dick and Barbara were coming, but I hadn't herd of anyone else, and I asked Dick about it.

"Well, Barbara's dad, Leslie if she can steal herself away from the clinic, Clark said he might be able to drop in, but Lois wasn't sure if she'd be able to come… I think that's it, right, Tim?"

I looked over to Tim, who had just taken a bite of his sandwich. He nodded, swallowed and replied, "I think so."

After lunch, we walked back to the den and Dick and I played checkers on the floor while Tim and Cass sat on the leather couch. Barbara returned a little before one-thirty and sat with Tim and Cass, talking about computers and programs. I would have listened in, but I was too busy beating Dick.

"King me!" I laughed as one of my red checkers made it all the way to his side.

"I think we need to play a new game."

I grinned at him and replied, "I think you should king me."

"Oh, I'll king you, come here and get kinged!" he reached across the board and grabbed on to me, pulling me over to his side before tickling my sides with one hand and my neck with the other.

Not wanting to be completely helpless, I remembered the trick Cass had shown me a few weeks ago. I straightened the fingers of my one hand and jabbed them just above Dick's collarbone. He fell back in surprise and I went with him, laying on his chest, still laughing.

Dick looked up at me with surprise, "Where'd you learn to do that?"

I glanced at Cass who was smirking, then looked back to Dick, "I saw it on TV."

Footsteps and voices in the hall caught my attention, and I jumped up and raced to the doorway, hoping to see that Mom and Dad were back with Nathan.

Instead, I nearly ran into Barbara's dad and Uncle Clark. I looked up and apologized, "Sorry, I thought you were Mom and Dad," before turning back into the room and sitting back down by Dick.

"That's okay," Clark said as he followed me in, "Actually, I ran into Alfred on the way in, he said that your parents are on their way home."

"Then we can get this party started," Dick smiled as he shoved me.

I looked at him for a minute before tackling him. If I had time to spare, I figured I might as well use it beating up my big brother.

^V^

I had only been in Wayne Manor for less then ten minutes when the guest of honor arrived, nestled in his mother's arms. I had only seen him a handful of times since he had been born, and that had been brief glances through the NICU windows. Seeing him, slumbering in a blue blanket, for some reason, it felt like as if it was for the first time.

"How did things go?" Barbara asked.

Selina smiled, "Dr. Talbot said everything looked good. He has a check up in a week, and then once a month until he's six months old. But other than that…"

Mattie, who had been on the floor with Dick, rose and walked towards her mother, standing on her toes to get a peek at her new sibling. Dick was quick to follow, stepping behind Selina and peering down at Nathan over her shoulder, "Hey there, little guy."

For some reason, I thought back to when Barbara and I had brought James home from the hospital. Those first few sleepless nights were probably the happiest I had seen since moving to Gotham. And then shortly after, life turned back to its hellish self…

Selina handed the baby over to Dick and said she was going to check in with Alfred quick. Dick crossed the room slowly, his eyes never leaving the infant's face, and sat on the couch next to me. The action had caused the being in the blanket to stir slightly; his tiny eyelids drew up to reveal crystal blue eyes.

"About time you woke up," Dick snickered as he cradled the baby in his arms, "So, what do you think Babs, am I natural at this baby juggling or what?"

I glanced over to see my daughter shake her head, "Physically, yes. Mentally no."

"Now why do you say that?" he asked, feigning hurt in his voice.

"You just got in a fight with an eight year old girl over a game of checkers."

He looked over to Mattie, "So?"

"And you lost," Barbara added.

As if I were going to offer support in his defense, Dick looked to me. I shrugged and sat back into the leather couch, "I hate to say it, but she's right. Mattie won."

Dick shook his head in defeat and looked to Nathan, "You're on my side, right?" He then raised his voice two octaves and spoke on behalf of his brother, "Sure I am, Dick! You're the bestest big brother a kid my age could hope for… that and you have the coolest haircut in the room, even though your wife says it makes you look like a sixth grade bully…"

A smile broke out on my face and I subconsciously looked to Dick's closely cropped hair. He had come into the office last week with his new haircut, dismayed and upset. He had told me that he had gone to a new barber and had subsequently left with his hair in a different fashion then he was used to. Barbara has been tormenting him endlessly on his nearly buzzed sides and long topped hair, and he had hoped to find relief in hiding from her for the day. I had managed a smile and a few words of comfort, "Well, at least it will grow back by Christmas."

He had collapsed into his desk chair after muttering, "Bah humbug… Merry Christmas… Hopefully we get to go to the Caribbean by then…"

In light of the unexpected arrival of Nathan, Barbara and dick had agreed to postpone their honeymoon. Bruce and Selina had been shocked to hear so and had made numerous attempts to convince them to go. All were futile as Dick and Barbara had stood by their decision to wait until Nathan was home safe.

And now that he was, another hurdle had surfaced.

Gotham City had been under the assault of a fast-growing drug lord who was only known by Hades. He slowly been scaring off some of the lesser known drug dealers, and those that wouldn't but out had ended up in the morgue. I had heard bits and pieces of it on the news and I knew that Gotham's best were working on it day and night through the end of summer. As well as a few of her guardian angels.

Barbara had informed me that Tim had a few leads but that they had all turned up as false trails, set out by this Hades character. Whoever he was, he was well versed in laying low and covering his tracks. Bad news all around. Nevertheless, they were still working adamantly on tracking him down, no matter how many thugs they had to pummel or raids they had to perform.

Listening to Barbara as she had told me the details over coffee one morning not three weeks earlier, I found myself wondering if Bruce was as in the loop as I. Given that he had spent most of the summer with his family and preparing for the wedding, not to mention having spent most of his days and nights at the hospital as of late, I had doubted so. After two cups of Columbian roast, I had managed to ask Barbara.

"Well, actually he's been staying pretty well informed, whether he asks us or he finds out on his own… Especially this summer with that social worker being killed."

"How's that?"

She sipped carefully before answering, "I didn't tell you?" I shook my head and she elaborated, "She was the mother of one of Mattie's friends. I guess Selina had known her pretty well, Bruce had only met her a few times, but still… He and Tim brainstormed for a couple of weeks, but there really wasn't much to go on. None of her credit cards were used, none of her belongings ended up at pawn shops or anything…"

I had sighed, my eyes falling to my near empty mug, "Loose ends."

"What, Dad?"

I had looked back up to her face, "You know how he doesn't like loose ends."

Not a month later, after returning from an unusually long evening walk with Frank, I had returned home to a message on my answering machine. I had pressed play as I kicked off my tennis shoes, one of which Frank quickly claimed as his own and carried his game off into the den. I had chased after him, still trying to listen to the message. Returning with his writhing body in one hand and my slobbered shoe in the other, I heard Selina's voice finish, "… So if you're free, we'd love to have you up this Saturday. We should be getting back from the hospital with Nathan around one-thirty or two, but I'll call you if the time changes. Take care, Jim."

He was coming home…

It had been the best news I had heard in far too long.

^V^

Leaning against the doorframe, I looked into my bedroom, smiling at the sight before me.

After our guests had departed for the evening, we shared a quiet dinner together.

Together. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity. The night before had been the first time in nearly two months that Bruce and I had slept in our room at the Manor. We had both read with Mattie before tucking her in for the night and then making our way to bed ourselves. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, we fell asleep quickly, laying close and using up only a fraction of the bed.

For some unknown reason, I woke suddenly at three in the morning, sitting upright in bed. As I fought the urge to dial the long since memorized number to the hospital nursery, I felt Bruce's hand on my shoulder. I looked down at him, faked a smile and then reclined beside him.

For the last seven weeks, we had been trying to convince ourselves that everything was going to be all right. That life was going back to normal. For the longest time, I couldn't believe it, I wouldn't believe it. And I knew Bruce felt the same way. Swapping roles between comforter and worrier, it had made life even more stressful. At first, I hadn't been able to accept that I had undergone a subtotal hysterectomy. All my mind could process was that Nathan had been born early. My doctor's explained the surgery had gone bad and that I understood and accepted, but that fact that I was never going to have children again…

After a week, reality sank in and thankfully, Bruce was there waiting.

It had been the first time I had seen tears in his eyes in longer than I could remember.

Bringing Nathan home was all I could think about after that. Getting him healthy and getting him the hell out of the hospital. Unfortunately, I neglected everything and anyone else. Visitors came and left and sometimes I would muster the ability to talk with them briefly and other times I pretended to be asleep or that I had to leave for an appointment.

There were only three people I made time for: Bruce, Nathan and Mattie.

When Alfred brought her to visit, I would sit with her for as long as she stayed, helped her color or put a puzzle together in the lounge. Sometimes we would be able to time her visits so she could see her brother, and the smiles that came to her face made only made me want to cry. Bruce often took her out for dinner and occasionally for a walk around the nearby park.

But it wasn't enough. We had practically abandoned her. And yet she still loved us.

One night, we had all gone up to the hotel suite, playing Monopoly as we ate Chinese takeout and watched TV. It felt too normal and I found myself looking out the window to the glowing mountain of a hospital that was across the street. After she left with Alfred for the night, Mattie had hugged me and whispered into my ear, "He's okay, Mom. We're okay."

I had fallen asleep that night, sobbing into Bruce's chest.

So long ago…

I entered the master bedroom, my eyes still on Bruce as he slept softly on the bed. Nathan was lying on his back as well, eyes partially closed. Isis, who had been wary of the new family member, was carefully sniffing Nathan's head. His arms suddenly reached up and tapped on Isis' back, causing her to jump directly onto the middle of Bruce's chest.

Bruce sat up suddenly, swatting at the cat before turning instinctively to check on the baby. When he looked up at me, I smiled and asked, "Cat nap?"

"Funny."

I reclined on the bed as well, lying on my stomach. I tickled Nathan's small belly for a moment before resting my head down next to his. He yawned, his eyelids returning to their partially closed state. As if fatigue was contagious, Bruce laid back down again, letting out a long sigh.

"What time is it?" he asked softly.

I turned my head and looked at the bedside clock, "Quarter after nine."

Bruce smirked briefly and I asked him what was funny. He shook his head before answering, "Nothing."

"Oh come on… What, ashamed to be tired before the ten 'o clock news starts?"

"Maybe."

I smiled for a bit before saying, "It was good to see Clark again."

Bruce waited a moment before grunting his reply, "Yeah."

"I have to admit, it was much more peaceful bringing Nathan home then when Mattie was born. The entire JLA in our house, all itching to get a glimpse at her…" I rolled over onto my back, "All like kids in a candy store…"

"And to think there watching over all of us," Bruce commented.

"I'd rather not think about that," I smiled.

Another silent minute lapsed before Bruce admitted, "They're not all bad."

"I know… How could they be, they let you play along, after all," I turned my head to face him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his reaction. Aside from the exhaustion of his features, the only sign of a response was the twitch of the corner of his lips. I reached over and rested my palm on his chest, "Are you going to go downstairs?"

He looked at me and shook his head, "No." Which meant yes.

"Do you want to go downstairs?"

He blinked and replied, "No." Which meant yes.

"Are you lying to me?" I asked as I began to trace his pectoral muscles.

There was no hesitation, "No." Which meant yes.

I looked over to see Nathan's eyes had closed completely and his chest was rising and falling slowly. I sat up, carefully picked him up and then laid him in the crib at the end of the bed, "Well, I'm going to take a shower. Probably at least twenty-five, maybe even thirty minutes. What you do in that time is up to you."

Still lying in bed, he replied, "Fine."

Ten minutes later as I was lathering shampoo into my hair, the bathroom door opened quietly. I smiled at the obscure figure through the fogged glass of the shower door. While rinsing my hair, I watched as he removed his black sweater, then his white button up dress shirt before peeling off his under shirt. After removing the rest of his clothes, he walked towards the shower and pulled the door open.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked, fighting a smile.

"You said you didn't care what I did while you showered," he answered, stepping under the water. His hair was instantly plastered to his head, the gray darkening to blend with the sparse black hairs. I brushed back a few of the longer locks and he added, "So I figured I might as well take a shower too."

"Who's watching Nathan?"

He grabbed a loofah and poured a dollop of soap onto it, "Alfred."

"And Mattie?" I asked, turning my back to him, pulling my hair over one shoulder.

Without hesitation, he began washing my back, "Already asleep."

I waited a moment before asking, "And downstairs?"

I felt the loofah pause at the small of my back before he resumed, "It can wait."

"Liar."

He leaned in, his lips just behind my ear, "Thief."

^V^

Despite the fact that her opponent was nearly a foot taller and no doubt three years older, she ducked out of his path, escaping without hesitation before claiming victory for the Bristol Elementary School Bobcats.

I stood, cheering out Mattie's name as she jumped up and down, exuberant for scoring the winning soccer goal for her team. Her fellow teammates crowded around her, offering high-five's and shrill screams. The set of nearly packed bleachers slowly began to empty, parents of one team picking on those of the other with too many smiles and laughs for it to be considered suggest malice.

I sat back down next to Bruce and sighed, "How come you never let me play sports."

He glared at me briefly before answering, "Your athleticism would have stood out…"

"Compromising my identity," I finished the speech he had given me for years, "I could have toned it down, you know."

"You're viciously competitive," he rebutted.

"I am not."

"Yes you are," he retorted.

"I am not."

Before Bruce could reply, Selina leaned forward and said, "Do I have to separate you two?"

We both shook our heads slightly and she stood, "That's what I thought."

When she went to pick up the baby carrier that had been sitting next to her, Bruce stood, "I can take him."

"I've got it Bruce. I'll bring the car around; you two go fetch the soccer queen."

We watched as she and Nathan made their way out of the bleachers and headed for the parking lot. She was quickly stopped by a small group of parents who wanted to ogle over the baby. After being home for a month, he had made very few outings wit his parents aside from doctor's visits.

I smiled and then took on the voice of a the brown-haired mother that was baby-talking to the poor child, "Oh isn't he precious, Selina, absolutely darling… Doesn't he look just like his father, except his hair isn't as gray as Bruce's…"

Bruce slowly turned his head as I spoke and when his eyes locked steadily with mine I smirked, "Just kidding."

He stood and I followed him down to the playing field where the two soccer teams were in the midst of the infamous good sportsmanship hand shaking line, mumbling "Good game" a few dozen times and half-hearted hand-slaps. As the lines passed by each other, Mattie spotted us and waved. After the teams had finished the dreaded ritual, both began to split up as children sought out their families. Mattie's team congregated around their coach, a man in his early twenties that also acted as the physical education teacher at her school. Selina had told me earlier that afternoon that his name was Trenton.

The kids screamed in joy at something he said and then began running about in search of their parents. Mattie raced over and gleefully told us, "Dad, Coach Trent said he wants to take the team out for ice cream. Can I go, please, please, please…"

Not that he could have told her no anyway, Bruce still tried to put his foot down, "Kitten, we have to be getting back home for dinner." In honor of finally leaving for our honeymoon, Bruce and Selina had invited Barbara and I up for dinner. She had decided to stay and finish packing while I opted to go up early for Mattie's soccer game.

Mattie put the works on her father, big blue eyes wide open, pouty smile in full force, "I know, but it will be real quick, I promise…"

Before he could ruin the pleading smile on her face, I stepped in, "Why don't you and Selina go home and I'll go with her to get ice cream, then when we get back we can all have dinner. Hopefully by then Barbara will be up to the Manor."

Bruce frowned slightly before saying, "No sundaes. Something small."

"Yeah!" Mattie cried out in triumph, "Thank you, Daddy!" she wrapped her arms around his legs tightly.

"Just don't be too long…" he started, but Mattie had already released him and latched onto my hand. "Dick," he started as I was dragged away.

"I know, I know, don't let her eat gum from under the table and don't sell her for beer money," I called back.

We joined up with the hoard of children and parents as we made our way towards the sidewalk. It was a three minute walk to the ice cream parlor and we made good time despite the size of the group. Mattie held onto my hand the entire walk over, and kept a slow pace despite the fact that we were nearly towards the back of the group.

Once inside the air-conditioned, chocolate-scented haven of the parlor, we waited silently in line. When it was our turn to order, Mattie was more than prepared as she recited, "May I have soft black raspberry in a cone, please?"

The girl behind the counter couldn't have been older than sixteen and smiled before saying, "Black raspberry coming up," she then looked at me, "And for you, Dad?"

Mattie began giggling uncontrollably and I managed to keep a straight face as I said, "I'm sorry… I'm not her… I'm her brother. And I'll have the same."

Mortified, the girl turned scarlet and quickly disappeared to fetch our cones. While we waited for our cones, I took my wallet out, found a twenty dollar bill and set it in the tip jar. Feeding all of these kids made it worth every cent. When she returned, she handed us our cones, of which were decorated with rainbow sprinkles. I was about to tell her that it hadn't been necessary, but she shrugged, "I'm sorry. I figured it was the least I could do."

Instead of waiting for her team, I told Mattie that we probably should be heading back to get my car. She said goodbye to her friends and thanked her coach for ice cream. He in turn thanked her for winning the game.

She blushed slightly and looked up at me, "Okay, I'm ready."

The walk back seemed much longer, and quieter. I ate my ice cream and cone in a few bites and looked to see that Mattie was slowly licking hers as she scuffed her feet along the sidewalk.

"You okay, kid?" I asked.

She nodded, "Yeah." The girl had just won her soccer game, gotten free ice cream, not to mention free sprinkles but looked like she couldn't get any sadder.

"That's it," I said before quickly snatching her up and setting her on my shoulders, "You can't lie at higher elevations, it's a proven fact." She snickered a bit but then returned to being silent. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, you can tell me. I'm you're dad, right?"

Another quick laugh. Then, "When are you coming back?"

I sighed before answering, "In three weeks, so towards the end of October."

"Will you be back for Halloween?"

"Of course."

"Good…" she said softly before asking, "Why are you going anyway?"

"Well, it's for my honeymoon."

"What?"

"My honeymoon, with Barbara. It's like a vacation after you get married."

"So it's just you and Barbara? What are you going to do for three weeks?

"Just kind of hang out, lay on the beach, go out to dinner, be lazy."

"Oh."

She was quiet for the rest of the walk back and then the most of the ride home. In fact the only time she spoke was when I parked in front of the garage at the Manor. I had looked back at her in the rear view mirror, to see her grinning madly.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," her smile doubled, "Dad."

^V^

"… With the chant, Jonas knew, the community was accepting him and his new role, giving him life, the way they had given it to the new child Caleb. His heart swelled with gratitude and pride. But at the same time he was filled with fear. He did not know what his selection meant. He did not know what he was to become. Or what would become of him…"

I looked down to see that Mattie was fast asleep. We had been taking turns reading The Giver in her bed, at first each of us reading a page. As she had grown tired, I ended up reading two pages for everyone one she had. And eventually, she had stopped reading, taking to nestling up against me, mumbling for me to keep reading every time I had paused to check on her.

I set the page with her bookmark and quietly set it on her bedside table, shutting off the lamp before returning my hand. Carefully, I sat up, pulling her blankets up to cover her chest and the slumbering calico that was on her other side. When I began to rise, she stirred slightly and I remained motionless until her breathing returned to low, long drags. Once standing, I crossed the room and shut off the lights before closing her door three-quarters of the way.

On my way to the master bedroom, I stopped in the nursery to see that Nathan also was fast asleep. I watched as he slept for a few minutes then left as quietly as I had entered.

Having been home for over a month, Selina and I had decided to try letting him sleep next door. The first week had been a little rough as it took a bit longer for either Selina or I to answer his cries in the middle of the night. Soon enough, he grew used to his new environment and had begun to call out for us fewer and fewer times as each night passed.

I glanced at my wristwatch to see it was nearly quarter of ten. I thought to myself that he would be up by midnight. And that I would volunteer to take care of him.

Selina had gone into our bedroom around eight-thirty, not too long after she had put Nathan to bed and when I had taken Mattie to her room. I opened the door and wasn't surprised to see the lights out and her form under the covers. Having removed my coat and tie from the day prior to dinner, I only had to strip off my slacks and dress shirt off before slipping into bed. Although I had done my best to get in unnoticed, Isis gave me away when she offered a low growl as I pushed her off my pillow.

Selina, who had been facing away from me, shifted slightly before laying on her back, "Bruce?"

"I'm here," I whispered.

She rolled onto her side to face me, waited for me to settle in, and then inched over, pressing herself against me. Her bare leg made contact with mine and she jerked slightly, "You're freezing."

"Mattie didn't share her blankets."

Selina grinned as she rested her head on my pillow, "Poor thing," her arm draped itself over my side, tended nails carefully scraping the outline of my ribcage. "I'd say I would warm you up but…" when she paused I took it as a sign and leaned in to kiss her neck. It was then that I realized she had been yawning. She laughed quietly, "If you'd let me finish."

"No," I mumbled into her collarbone.

"Bruce…" she sighed, offering a weak attempt at pushing me away.

"Not listening."

"I noticed…" she snickered until my lips closed over hers. "Don't start something you can't fin---."

We kissed languidly for far too long until she rolled onto her back, drawing me on top of her. As I positioned myself above her, I took a second to glance at the clock, noticing it was quarter after eleven. Plenty of time before Nathan would wake for his midnight feeding…

As I carefully peeled off Selina's top, she wasted no time in pushing down her silk pajama pants before reaching for the elastic band of my boxer shorts. We had made four unsuccessful attempts at making love since moving Nathan to the nursery, all of which had been brought to an abrupt end by his wailing. And after months of compounding tension, we were both starting to get a little edgy.

"Hurry," Selina whispered into my ear as I kicked my undergarments away from my ankles, "His ESP is going to go off any second…"

I smirked before kissing her neck, thinking how Selina had conjured up the idea that Nathan bore extra sensitive perceptive abilities that detected whenever he was not the main focus of his parents attention. It had been evident not only when we were alone but when we were with Mattie or Alfred…

The baby monitor on the nightstand offered a meek, "Whe…."

I moved to leave the bed to get him, but she wrapped her legs with mine and said, "No…"

"Meh-eh," the monitor uttered.

She growled something I couldn't decipher as words and latched her hands onto my hips, drawing me down to her. I drew a sharp breath and did my best to pull away, "Selina, he needs us."

Another soft sound from the baby monitor, "Whew-whem…"

"He can wait five minutes," she pouted.

"This can wait five minutes," I slipped out of her grasp and stepped out into the darkness of the hall.

She moaned in disgust, "If you're not back here in four minutes and fifty-eight seconds Bruce…"

After stepping into his room, I saw the cause of the soft whines we had heard. The leg of his pajama sleeper had twisted, no doubt irritating him just so. I carefully fixed the legging and was surprised when he relaxed almost instantly.

"Five minutes, Nate, that's all I ask."

He gave us fifteen.

^V^


	8. What Lies Ahead: VIII

Title: What Lies Ahead: VIII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: Summer arrives in Gotham in full force.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note:

^V^

"…Mrrow."

Buried beneath my covers, I giggled at Taffy.

She pawed at my blanket-covered head and mewed again. Not a moment later, she snuck under the covers, rubbing her side down the front of my face, purring as she did so. I smiled as her tail tickled my nose. Still purring, Taffy turned around and rubbed her face on my chin. I reached up and wrapped my arms around her lanky form, pulling her close to me. Taffy meowed again, licked my chin then rolled onto her back as I began to rub her belly.

I waited a few minutes then sat up, pushing down the comforter, revealing my purple silk pajama top and bottoms that Mom had gotten me a few days ago. They had shooting stars embroidered on them and when I had put them on last night after my bath, I had skipped into Mom and Dad's room and showed them off. Dad said I was the prettiest girl in the room, and I agreed.

I looked at my alarm clock to see it was only six, thirty minutes before when I was supposed to be up. But it was my first horse show of the year, and on top of that it was May Day, how could I possibly have slept in?

After I rolled out of bed, I went to the bathroom, washed up and brushed my teeth. Leaving Taffy under the blankets, I made my bed quickly before sneaking into the hallway. Usually I slept in most weekends until Dad came in to wake me up to get ready for the day, but I figured if I was up, I might as well get everyone else up. The door to Nathan's room was opened slightly and I looked in to see that he was still asleep. It probably wouldn't be long before he woke up, though. Most mornings when I woke up, Mom was already downstairs feeding him breakfast.

Continuing on tiptoe, I finished making my way towards Mom and Dad's room, quietly opening the door. I looked in quickly before entering, closing the door behind me. The lights were out and the heavy drapes were pulled shut over the windows, making the room nearly black. As I moved closer to the bed, I saw that Dad was sleeping on his stomach, face buried into his pillow and that Mom was on her side, her arm draped over his lower back.

I crept towards them, pausing when Dad shifted under the blankets slightly. Carefully, I climbed up, avoiding his legs as I walked on the end of the mattress. There wasn't any room between them so I settled to kneel between their feet.

"Mom? Dad?"

Nothing.

I whispered their names again but still didn't get a response.

I decided I had to wake them up the old fashioned way.

"Happy May Day!" I called out, jumping up and down on the bed.

Mom rolled onto her back before sitting straight up but Dad proceeded to bury his head underneath a pillow. With the sudden opening, I crawled up to lay between them, hugging Mom as she went to lay back down.

"Mattie… What time is it?" she asked, rolling onto her side as she had been a moment earlier.

"Six. I couldn't sleep."

"So I noticed," she paused briefly, "Well, why don't you wake your father up while I go check on Nathan."

"I'm on it," I grinned at her before turning towards Dad. She stepped out of bed, pulled on her robe and then slowly walked towards the doors. Alone, I proceeded to get down to business.

"Dad?" I lifted his pillow and snuck my head under it, "Dad, are you awake?"

"No," he mumbled into the mattress.

I moved my face so that it was an inch from his. The stubble on his cheek tickled my nose as I said, "Yes you are. You have to get up."

"No, I'm not. And no I don't."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, "Yes, you do. We have to get ready."

"For what?" he shifted and faced me, our heads still buried beneath the pillow.

Not sure if he was kidding or if he had really forgotten, I sighed, "For my horse show, Dad…"

I sat up at the sound of Mom's voice, "I've brought reinforcements, Mattie."

As she sat on the edge of the bed, she set Nathan down on his stomach, guiding him to crawl over Dad's back. He giggled softly as he made his way towards Dad's head. Maybe between the two of us we could get him out of bed.

Even though Nathan had been so little when he was born, he had certainly caught up. He crawled all on his own and when Mom or Dad held his hands, he could stand and take a few steps. He laughed a lot, especially when I played Peek A Boo with him, but other than that he hadn't started speaking yet. Mom said that was okay, that every baby was different in how they reached the milestones. I just liked the fact that he liked to copy what I did, and he was fast to learn that climbing on Dad was a sure fire way to wake him up.

As Mom pulled the pillow back, I laid back down and inched in as close as possible to Dad's face, pressing my cheek to his. I couldn't help but giggle as Nathan practically sat on Dad's head, his tiny hands latched on to our father's ears. Despite our attack, he remained motionless, fighting to appear asleep.

"Dad…" I whined.

"Gauh," Nathan added.

I heard Mom sigh, "Bruce…"

Finally, he said, "I'm up."

I sat up suddenly and cried out in triumph and Nathan did the same, slapping his hands together with a grin on his face. Mom picked him up off of Dad's shoulders and said she was going to go change his clothes for the day and that I had to get dressed. After she left the room, I rolled onto my back and sighed, surprised when Dad did the same.

"Are you taking me to the barn?"

He looked over at me and nodded, "Your mother is going to take Nathan in for a doctor's appointment and will meet us at the show."

"Will you help me get Rusty ready?"

"I'll do what I can," he paused before sitting up, pushing the blankets away. Although I had seen him with his shirt off plenty of times, I couldn't help but stare at him as he walked towards the bathroom. I'd asked him a few times what had happened to him but he always said the same thing.

_An accident, Mattie. A very bad accident. Long time ago._

Before passing through the doorway, he looked back to me and said, "Better get moving, kitten."

After jumping out of his bed, I raced back to my room, taking off my new pajamas before putting on my jodhpurs and paddock boots. I then put my dress shirt on, tucked it in before I put my brown leather belt on. As I was pulling my sweater on, Mom peered into my room, Nathan in her arms, "You all set?"

"Almost," I replied, "Can you braid my hair?"

Dad walked by and paused next to Mom who said, "You want to take him and get him some breakfast?"

He nodded, taking Nathan into his arms. My little brother latched his tiny fingers onto Dad's ear again and I couldn't help but laugh. Mom said that when I was that age I would always pull on Dad's hair.

By the time I made it downstairs, breakfast was on the table and Dad was trying to feed Nathan. I climbed up on my chair and drank most of my orange juice before I started in on my oatmeal. As I ate, I watched as Dad tried to get Nathan to eat what looked like a mashed banana slice but he kept turning his head away. When I started to giggle, Dad looked over at me and asked, "You think you can do better?"

I shook my head and went back to my own breakfast, doing my best to hide my grin.

Dad let Nathan grab a handful of the fruit and smiled when he raised it to his lips and took a tiny bite. Not a second later, his smile vanished when Nathan threw the handful at Dad, where it landed on his forehead.

This was going to be a great day.

^V^

Despite the fact that we hadn't returned from patrols until a little before five, Cass had still gotten up for a run at nine. When she slipped out of bed, she had told my snoring body that she was going out for a bit. And after she had dressed, she had sat on my pillow, squeezing my nose shut with her fingers to try and wake me. Finally, she had whispered in my ear, asking if I wanted to join her. I had subconsciously responded, "Bacon cheeseburger, no pickles, root beer."

An hour and a half later, she returned, ripped the blankets off of the bed and then stepped into the bathroom to shower and change. After she headed back downstairs, I managed to get out of bed, shower, shave and dress while still remaining half asleep.

That was until my nose picked up the faint perfume of bacon and cheese, when my brain suddenly came into focus.

Barefoot, I made my way downstairs, following the appealing aroma to the den. Cass was curled up on the sofa, foil wrapped burger in one hand as she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her other hand. After she swallowed, she took a sip from a bottle of root beer, "I thought you weren't getting out of bed today?"

After a week of long nights out and busy days, I had vowed that I would spend Saturday in bed. I shrugged at her, "Changed my mind… Is that from Charney's?"

She nodded, before pushing a tomato slice back into the sandwich.

"Where's mine?"

She raised an eyebrow before replying, "Where's your what?" I walked over and sat beside her before pointing to the Styrofoam container on the coffee table that had a heaping pile of onion rings in it. She bit her lip before replying, "Oh, yeah… Bad news... I went to get the mail, I dropped it."

"What?"

"Sorry," she shrugged before taking a large bite.

"But… What am I supposed to eat?"

She looked at me, stone faced, and replied, "Leftovers from dinner at your Dad's?"

Leftovers. Sirloin tips reduced to charcoal pencils. I watched on longingly as she took another monstrous taste. With my years of training as a vigilante, detective and hero, I knew immediate action was necessary to right this injustice.

I lurched forward, grabbing at the foil in her hands with my right hand while blocking her with my left arm. She ducked underneath my failed attempt of a tackle with a quickness I would never possess. Moving onto my second assault plan, I followed her to the floor, doing my best to wrap my arms around her torso before she would have a chance to get up. Perhaps it was because I just woke up, or that my haste was the result of my lips not tasting a Charney's Double Bacon Cheeseburger in months, but whatever the reason, she out maneuvered me with the slightest of effort.

As Cass stood above me, she took another bite and then asked with her mouth full, "Give up?"

I looked up at her, shamefaced despite the fact that I had yet to put Plan C into practice.

As Cass turned to grab her soda, I reached up and pulled down the sweat pants she had put on after her shower. She cried out in surprise as she set her burger down before reaching for the elastic band of her pants. Cass fought laughter as I dove between her legs and grabbed the sandwich out of the box. I then made my way under the coffee table and waited until I was sitting on the other side before feverishly taking a bite.

After walking around the table, Cass took to standing in front of me, arms crossed over her chest, "I hope that was worth it."

I swallowed before asking, "Why's that?"

"If you're going to eat what's left of mine, I get to eat all of yours."

"What? You said…"

She walked passed me, hiding her smile, "I dropped the box. It mixed things up… But I didn't throw it out."

Fifteen minutes later, we were both on the couch, sharing onion rings, cold root beer and the remaining cheeseburger. It was a little after noon and although I had all intentions of going back to bed after our gorge fest I knew it was the least plausible scenario. As I popped in the last onion ring, Cass asked, "Any plans for today?

"Aside from a coma?"

"Aside from a coma."

I paused, then said, "I was thinking about heading up to the Cave, run some things by Bruce."

"He's at Mattie's horse show."

"Oh… Well, I'm sure I can entertain myself until he gets back."

"Then?"

I shrugged and motioned to the two empty containers on the table, "Burn off all of these calories somehow…. We could spar," I smirked at her.

She stood and shook her head, "You already lost the first match," before disappearing into the hall.

I laughed and called after her, "You had two out of three, I won the last one!"

Her head popped back into view, "Dream on."

After picking up the den, I took the trash out and decided the car could use a good washing in place of the nap I wasn't going to take. Stepping into the garage, I hit the door retractor button before sitting in the driver's seat. I backed out, parked in the middle of the drive and then popped in a Dave Matthews CD. After double checking to make sure the windows and sun roof were closed, I got out, shut the door and went to retrieve the hose, soap and brush.

Halfway through the only washing ritual that was manly enough for me to take on I heard a car pull up to the curb behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see a girl in a green sash and matching beret get out with a clipboard and pen.

After shutting the hose off, I approached her, noticing that a young woman was getting out of the driver's seat, chatting on a cell phone. Blonde haired and blue eyed, the sash sporting girl couldn't have been more than eleven years old, but she showed no shyness as she asked, "Excuse me, sir, my name is Janice and I am selling cookies as a fundraiser for my scout troop."

This was positively too much.

Before I could reply, the young woman on the cell phone had stepped up to us, placing her phone into the pocket of her too tight jeans. She looked similar to the child and it didn't take me long to see that it was a sibling similarity rather than a maternal one. I smiled and offered a curt nod.

"Hi," she flashed a perfect smile before placing a hand on her sister's shoulder, "Introduce me to your friend, Jan."

She rolled her eyes in a way that I had seen Mattie do countless times, "This is my sister Alexis."

"I was a Girl Scout too. When I was Jan's age."

I nodded, as if I were surprised. Unfortunately, I had soap drying on my car and a long day of forced ambition ahead of me with no room for chit chat with this Girl Scout's older gum smacking sister. Unsure as to what the varieties were, I simply said, "Well, you can put me down for two of everything, how does that sound?"

The girl's eyes grew wide and it took her a moment before she said, "Wow, okay… I need you to fill out your address and phone number…" she handed over the clipboard and pen and I filled in the various lines of contact information. I glanced at the heading on the sheet and uneasiness washed over me when I saw that Janice's address and phone number were listed under: Girl Scout Information.

I knelt in front of her as I handed back the clipboard, "Janice, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure…" she glanced at the sheet, "Mr. Drake."

I smirked, "First, call me Tim." The girl giggled softly and I continued, "When you're going around selling cookies, make sure you cover up the top part here, that way strangers can't see where you live." I watched as she looked down, realizing for the first time that her life had been on display. I helped her fold the top part over and then let her clip it back on, "See, now it's a secret."

"Thanks, Tim." She recited a date that the cookies should arrive by and said she would drop them off.

"No problem. Good luck selling the rest of those cookies."

The girl skipped back to the car, "Thanks!"

Alexis, who had been standing in disbelief that I had completely ignored her, stomped back to the car.

The recent buyer of twenty-four boxes of cookies in twelve assorted flavors, I went back to rinsing the Honda off. Not ten minutes later, Cass came out and watched as I buffed the car dry with a shine cream I had was a fan of. When I was done, she got in the passenger seat before I took my seat. She turned the volume down and leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"What was that for?"

"For being a big softie… Helping that girl."

I shrugged as I turned the ignition. "Hey, I am supposed to protect the innocent. How much more innocent could someone get?"

^V^

Following his doctor's appointment, I had taken a very sleepy Nathan to Barbara's before heading up to Buxton for Mattie's show. Even though he was in good health, I wasn't too keen on bringing him to a horse show. With Dick working with Jim all day, Barbara had been glad to sit for me. "Finally, a man who will listen to everything I say," she had laughed when I dropped him off.

After parking near the horse trailer, I walked over to the warm-up ring to see Bruce standing at the rail, a dirty wash cloth hanging out of a back pocket that held a hoof pick and a comb. From the other pocket hung a shiny blue first place ribbon and three red second place ribbons. I walked up beside him, but he hadn't noticed as his eyes were glued to Mattie as she schooled Rusty over a cross-rail jump.

I decided to get his attention as I leaned against the top rail, "That Wayne kid sure can ride."

He looked down at me, a smudge of dirt on his left cheek, smiled, shook his head and then went back to watching our daughter.

"I see she's doing well," I reached over and patted his rear where the ribbons hung.

He smirked, but his breath caught as Mattie trotted Rusty towards the fence in the ring. She rose up into the correct position, eyes glued to an imaginary spot beyond the fence and then squeezed her heels onto her pony's side, cueing him to take off at just the right moment. When they landed flawlessly on the other side, Bruce let out air through his mouth. I wrapped my arms around his and leaned against him. A silent cue for him to calm down.

There was a brief break at two to drag and water the rings and I convinced Bruce to sit with me in camp chairs near the trailer. We watched on as Mattie untacked her pony, brushed him head to toe before checking and redoing a few loose braids in his mane. Her riding instructor, Janet, sat in the chair next to me, "Glad you could make it Selina. How's the little one?"

As we chatted for a bit, Bruce went to get a cup of coffee from the small food stand near the announcer's booth. He returned with the coffee, in addition to two bottles of water, a soft pretzel and cup of strawberry yogurt. Before I could ask, he explained, "Only salvageable snacks left."

Bruce and I shared the cup of coffee and the pretzel as he filled me in on the morning's events. Mattie had won her Showmanship class and had gotten second in the Hunter Pleasure and Hunter Under Saddle classes for the Pony Division. Even though she had mixed up the pattern slightly in her Equitation on the Flat class, she still placed second.

"She came out of the ring, dismounted, walked up to the bulletin board and read the pattern again. When I walked over to say she did a great job, she shrugged, said she mixed up the steps for Cone C and D or whatever and then walked off to get Rusty some water," he sighed.

"What?"

"The girl who placed sixth yelled at her horse for not stopping when it was supposed to…." Mattie, her hunt coat and helmet off, interrupted him as she sat on his lap. He decided to change the subject, "How am I doing, kitten?"

"Great! Mom you would be proud. When we were at the barn loading horses on the trailer, Dad held Rusty while I went back in to get his water bucket."

I looked at Bruce, "Is this true?"

He nodded proudly, "Even lead him up the girl who was putting the horses on the trailer." Bruce had done his best to be active in Mattie's equestrian passion, but he had outgrown horses at a young age. Even still, he attended her lessons and shows as often as possible, doing what he could to help out.

"I got you a yogurt, kitten."

"Thanks," Mattie leaned back and kissed Bruce's cheek, right above the spot of dirt. She giggled, "Rusty got you, Dad."

He wiped at his face and asked, "Good?"

She kissed him again, "Yep." Mattie then looked at me, "Did you see my ribbons?"

I nodded, "Good job. How many classes do you have left?"

Before she could say anything, Bruce pulled a folded program from his shirt pocket, "Two, Equitation over Fences and Hunter Hack," he put the program back and then asked how things had gone at the appointment.

"Great. He was a superstar, actually, hardly even fussed."

It wasn't long before the announcer said that the next class would be starting in ten minutes. Although Mattie had to wait three classes after that, she hopped off of her father's lap and skipped over to Rusty, "All right, Rust Bucket, ready for more?" As if the bay Welsh Pony understood her, he nodded and snorted before grabbing one last bite of hay from the canvas bag attached to the trailer.

Bruce and I spent the rest of the afternoon at the rail of the horse show ring, encouraging Mattie as she entered the ring, holding our breath as she jumped the fences and applauding when she placed well in both classes. At the close of the show, Mattie and one of her friends from the stable lead their untacked horses around to cool them out and let them graze a bit.

While we waited, Bruce and I sat in the Navigator he had driven up in, stealing a quiet moment for ourselves. He sat in the driver's seat, head back, eyes closed, no doubt mentally and physically exhausted from the day.

"I have a proposition."

Bruce glanced over at me, "Oh?"

"I take Mattie to the barn to take care of Rusty and you go into town to pick up Nathan."

He leaned towards me, kissed the corner of my mouth before whispering a quiet "Merci."

He then planted a kiss just above my upper lip, "Grazie."

On the underside of my jaw, "Danke."

Just behind my ear, "Efharisto."

As I felt his lips graze my neck, I asked, "What language is that?"

Bruce paused, "Classic Greek." He then moved to kiss my lips, but there was a pounding on the passenger side window. We both jumped to see Mattie, grinning from ear to ear, jumping as she shook a large red, yellow and white ribbon.

After he turned the ignition, I rolled down the window just in time to hear her, "I'm reserve high-point for the day!"

"Congratulations, kitten," he smirked at her before asking, "Are we set?"

Mattie leaned against the car door and nodded, "Yep, we're going to load the horses then we'll be ready to go." When she turned to leave, I called after her. "What?" she asked.

I told her the change of plans and she said, "Ok," then paused, looked into the car and then asked, "What are you two doing in here?" When neither of us offered an answer, Mattie sighed and said, "Never mind…" before turning back to the horse trailer.

"I think she's on to us," Bruce spoke quietly.

I slowly turned to face him, "What are you, a detective?"

A slight twitch of his brow suggested that he didn't appreciate the joke, but then he grinned and said, "Oui… Si…. Ja.---."

"Shut up."

He nodded, kissed me on the lips and then said, "Ne."

Although Mattie and I were at the barn for only an hour, I was surprised to see that Bruce had already returned from picking up Nathan. I was also surprised to see Tim's car parked in front of the garage. After entering through the service entrance, we made our way to the den where I had expected to find my husband and son.

Only one of them was present, and he was sleeping in Alfred's arms.

He greeted me quietly and I smiled before offering to take Nathan from him. "Where's Bruce?"

He glanced behind me, his eyes searching for Mattie. When I told him she was taking her medicine, he answered, "Downstairs with Master Tim and Miss Cassandra."

I nodded. Before I could ask what was going on, Mattie skipped into the room, "Alfred!"

"Ah, Miss Mattie, how did you fair today?"

As she told him of her horse show, I left to put Nathan up in the nursery. After such a busy day, it was no wonder he was exhausted. I found Alfred and Mattie in the kitchen having a celebratory glass of milk and peanut butter cookie. "Why don't you go shower, Mattie."

She nodded, finished her milk and then hopped off of the stool, "Thanks, Alfred."

"It was my pleasure, dear."

As I lead my daughter to the stairs, she asked, "Where's Dad?"

He's down in the cavern beneath the house… "I don't know."

"Oh…. Wasn't that Tim's car out front?"

Yes, Cass is here too, also in the cavern beneath the house… "Maybe they ran an errand together."

"Like what?"

Solving any number of unsolvable crimes, robberies and murders. "Not sure… Let's hang your ribbons up before they wrinkle."

^V^

Despite having spent the majority of the day working at the office with Jim, I was feeling energetic at half past two in the morning.

At Barbara's request, I made breakfast that morning, showered and dressed for the day, putting one of my long abandoned suits in place of my jeans and dress shirt. When I had headed for the door, I had bypassed Barbara sitting in the den and had blown her a kiss. She had whistled at me, "Where are you going all dressed up?"

I had stepped back into view; straightening my tie, "Off to bring home the bacon."

"From where? The President's freezer?"

I had winked at her, "Funny… I figured I'd dress up, look nice for a change."

She turned back to her book as she said, "Well, then you might want to wet that cowlick down."

When I had arrived at the office, Jim was there, sans Frank, scanning the newspaper. Before I could ask where our stout, furry mascot was, he looked up, "Hot date?" I gave him the same vague explanation that I had given Barbara, but instead of him critiquing my hair, he nodded, "Forget I asked."

I made it home a little before five, entering the foyer to the smell of lasagna baking. Eyes partially, closed, I walked as quietly as possible into the kitchen. Even with all of my effort, Barbara, who was slicing vegetables at the table, spoke without turning, "Hope you built up an appetite with all that bacon bringing."

After walking up behind her, I leaned over and kissed her cheek before stealing a tomato slice from the cutting board, "I'm famished."

"Gee, that's news to me," she smirked and went back to work. We shared dinner together at the dining room table, the conversation minimal. I took care of the dishes as she went to boot up her computer system. Once finished, I met her in the command center, hardly surprised to see her already wearing a headset and typing furiously.

"I'm going to head out, Babs."

She glanced back, pausing slightly in her assault on the keyboard, "Okay, I'll get something ready for you to do."

True to her word, Barbara had a few marks for me to investigate the second I stepped foot out of the Clocktower. Tedious tasks such as locating a few snitches that had been MIA, scaring the life into the pimps of the East End and for good measure, busting on a few scams forged from the brotherhood of dirty cops. It wasn't until a little after two that I finally found myself with nothing to do.

Resting on the ledge of the Museum of Modern Art, I heard a soft tone before, "Who said you could take a break?"

I grinned, "I did. You've run me ragged and the night's not even over yet."

Barbara replied, "Poor thing… Well, when you are able to regain your strength, the Big Guy has requested you check out a stakeout point for him."

"Fantastic. Where am I off to?" She reported an address and before she could give directions, I commented, "The candy factory?"

"Well, it's not making lollipops anymore, but yes," she replied.

As I began to travel north on foot, I asked, "May I ask what I staking out?"

She paused before responding, "It's a possible location for one of the Hades distributing centers."

"Ah yes, our horned, pointy tailed drug smuggling friend."

Without an ounce of humor in her voice she said, "I wouldn't count on seeing him, but one of his demon flunkies is supposedly in charge of a new shipment coming in."

"And how do we know this tidbit?"

She summarized that Batman had been doing solo work all of last week on the case. Stake outs, interrogations and plain old detective work. This was the first major case he or anyone of us had dealt with since Black Mask had decided to take up smuggling kidnapped women into the Far East.

"Consider it done," I said before leaping off of the seven story granite building. At the last possible fraction of a second, I fired my grapple gun, waited for the clink of its secured attachment and then prepared for the sudden tightening of the line. With the acceleration, I was able to swing an arc over the next building, landing effortlessly on the roof of the much higher structure.

It took a few more minutes of rooftop hopping before I was at the alley where the cycle was parked. I leapt down, revved up and took off onto the street. From there it was ten minutes of dodging the wee hour taxicabs and public buses until I found myself entering the infamous borough of the Bowery. Upon arriving a the three story brick building, I made my way to the rooftop, found myself a greasy, pigeon-poo covered skylight and settled in for a bit.

The former site of the BB Candy Factory was actually still in usable condition. The factory had been shut down nearly ten years earlier after health inspectors found more than one vital violations. I recalled something from the papers about fingers in the chocolate coated peanut butter crispy bars…

Buildings that are vacant in Gotham were generally instant sites for squatters, providing some shelter to those unfortunate not to get a bed at one of the dozen free shelters in the city limits. But some of the nicer and better located abandoned structures were seized up but drug dealers, in order to have a great deal of work space to divide up little bags of horror without ever having an official connection to the building.

Such was the case with our dear Hades friend.

After months of trying to nail this guy, we had only managed a few near misses and were the police had suffered far more "not even in the ballpark" misses. He was good, whoever he was, and that was bad news for all of us. Every time we had gotten any inclination of information being usable, it was a wrong lead planted by one of Hades' followers. The busts that had made, however, had been no where near the scale expected. One of the larger shipments we had heard about had ended up being only a few kilos of cocaine and heroin.

One night, five months ago, we had updated Bruce on the case. It had been the day after Christmas and we had just returned from another fruitless bust. When Tim had suggested that this guy might not be as much of a threat as first thought, Bruce shook his head, eyes glued to the weak dossier we had managed to compile.

"He's just getting started," Bruce had said quietly.

As I looked through the dark window, I suddenly realized just how right Bruce was.

The factory had been gutted upon closing, making for over eighty thousand square feet of open space. Of which, nearly sixty thousand was currently in use. Countless rows of tables had been conjured out of boards of plywood and sawhorses. Each had a pair of workers, sporting face masks and goggles, packaging and stacking bags of unmentionables. From what I could see, there were organized sections, some rows wrapping up heroin, some rows sealing up cocaine, marijuana, and four different hues of pills…

Normal drug dealers, if there was such a thing, tended to stick to one or two types of drugs, sometimes advancing on when they had become established in the city. But for a newcomer to be handling every top drug in the nation was unheard of.

I contacted Oracle, "You there?"

"Yes, short shorts."

Despite the fact that she had used my cutesy nickname, there was no humor in my reply, "We have a pretty big situation down here."

"Oh? Three bags of pot?"

"Per second, maybe."

"What are you talking about?"

"Take a look through my video feed. Because this is something you have to see to believe." When I heard her audible gasp, I added, "So if you could send, oh I don't know, every vigilante in the city and a few hundred cops my way, that would be great."

^V^

Although I made it to the warehouse within fifteen minutes after Oracle's call, I arrived to gunfire.

When Oracle had contacted me, I was hanging up a sixteen year old bad boy wannabe that had held up an all night convenience store. After I tied him up, I took the extra time and effort to hang him upside down from the store's sign.

"Batgirl?"

"Busy."

"Too busy for an all out brawl, I must say that's a shock."

I asked what was going on and she updated me on Nightwing's discovery of the Hades operation. It was at one of the location's we had pegged as being a site of operation but hadn't checked in on in at least a week. Apparently it had been long enough to set up one of the largest distributing centers in all of Gotham.

Unfortunately, our experiences with Hades, or rather his underlings, had been far from successful.

I raced inside, leaping through a shattered window, instantly adjusting my night vision. Nightwing had cut the lights in order to induce panic, a scare tactic that had become second nature to all of us. Screams and curses in a handful of languages did little to blot out the echoing gunfire of semi-automatics. A sudden fire broke out towards the rear of the building and I caught a flash of black and blue being mauled by nearly a half of a dozen men.

As I broke through the masses that were trying to escape, I faced a number of gun toting thugs on my way. The first, I squatted down and imbedded the heel of my foot into his solar plexus. When he doubled over, the heel of my palm made contact with his jaw and he fell over with a dislocated mandible. The second and third came at me together, firing frantically but aiming poorly. When they reached me, both were out of ammunition and moved on to swinging fists at my face. I ducked, somersaulted between them and leapt to my feet before they had a chance to turn around.

When I was within two yards of Nightwing, he looked up at me and smirked before he imbedded his fist into a thug's abdomen. "Any sign of the boss man?" he called out before taking on another foe.

"No," I snapped back, just barely dodging the blind swing of a tire iron.

"Fantas---," his voice was lost in the midst of a barrage of machine gun fire.

I somersaulted towards the cover of a metal cabinet, glancing back to see Nightwing running and jumping over dark figures. I followed his path towards the gunmen, who was on a second floor overhang in front of a small set of broken office widows. Looking inside I saw several tall, bulky forms aiming their weapons towards mine and Nigthwing's direction in addition to another dark form. Tall, lanky, arms crossed over his double breasted lapels.

With a grin on his goateed face.

Bullets banged into the cabinet, ricocheting in every direction. When there was a pause, I peered again, grateful for the necessary reload. I leapt from my cover and followed the path that Nightwing had taken, although I had considerably less innocents to dodge. Innocents, more like slaves to the illegal substance industry.

As I was about to make the jump to the metal platform, I caught a flash of movement to my left. When I looked, I wasn't surprised to see that it was Batman, throwing two limp figures into the wall. I was about to attempt the jump but I heard his growl, "I need you down here."

I turned to see he had closed the distance between us. "Hades is upstairs, Nightwing's already gone up---," a burst of gunfire from just above stopped me. Ignoring him, I jumped, grabbed the metal ledge and then flipped up, landing on one foot before taking off in a dead run, ignoring the fact that my name was being bellowed.

Usually, I wouldn't have ignored him. Then again, usually, he wouldn't have stopped me.

The office had actually been furnished, lavishly so. Leather furniture, oak desks, plush rugs. All bullet ridden, but at one point it had been worth quite a bit. The bulky men who had been firing at us down below were now either on the floor unconscious or doing their best to beat the life from Nightwing's body. I lunged forward, extended my leg and cracked the jaw of one of the larger thugs. He made a howling sound before falling backwards, hands cupping his broken face. With one less pair of fists pounding into him, Nightwing was able to get upright, upper cutting and boxing the face of two assailants simultaneously.

After breaking both of his assailants' wrists, Nightwing glanced around to be sure that everyone was down, then stumbled and fell to the floor. I then realized he was bleeding from the thigh. Before I could ask, he waved me on, "Hey, with armor piercing rounds, I'm glad they weren't aiming much higher," he paused to wince as he applied a pressure bandage to his wound, "Hades went out the back there," he pointed towards and open door, "Give him hell, literally."

The door led to a long corridor, one decorated with no more than ten doors. The dank smell of abandonment that was even evident downstairs on top of the drugs was even stronger in the hall.

I heard the crash of glass down the hall and raced towards, my feet soundlessly landing on the bare floors. As the end of the hall veered to the right, I spotted two figures in the dark, both furiously attempting to pummel the other. I adjusted my night vision as I approached, already pulling out a pair of Batarangs. As the tall, heavy figure reached for something under his coat, I aimed quickly and threw them, smirking as cries of pain sounded when the metal pieces reached their destination.

Batman moved to the side and then threw a roundhouse to knock the thug out. He turned to face me, "I had him."

"I know," I replied. "Where's Hades?"

As Batman looked down the corridor, I heard a deep voice from behind me, "Right here," before the click of a safety being pulled.

When I spun around, my eyes did not see the tall, lanky goateed figure that we had been pursuing for months.

I didn't see the barrel of a gun, nor the blood on the man's shoes.

I saw a different man with a gun.

A different drug dealer with a goatee.

Time slowed as my mind flashed back to Pasqualle's blood covered face grinning as he aimed and fired his gun. And then to Batman leaping into the path of the bullets, each hitting him with a force strong enough to send him to the ground rolling. And the subsequent year we had spent by his side as he slowly recovered…

"No," I whispered, leaping towards Hades, striking at him without mercy even as he fired his gun into my abdomen. Before he had a change to fire again, I jabbed at his throat, damaging his trachea and stunning a cluster of nerves that made his eyes roll back into his head before he fell to the ground. I stood over the coughing form below me for a moment before I found myself coughing as well.

Coughing up crimson.

"What the hell were you…?" Batman snapped as he came up beside me. When he saw the blood, his form grew tense with panic, "Oh no… We have to get you to---."

I interrupted him, "It's fine."

He tried to regain his composure, "No it's not, you need to go, now. We'll handle things."

After retrieving it from my utility belt, I secured a gauze pad to my side, "Nightwing's worse than I am."

"What?" he snapped.

"Bullet to the leg."

Batman glared at me for a moment, obviously upset that he was unaware of Nightwing's condition.

"Then you both can go, I'll handle things." He turned suddenly and went about tying up Hades' arms and legs.

"But---."

He spun around, "I said go!"

"And you can go to hell!" I ran passed him, back towards where I had left Nightwing, never looking back.

^V^

I had made it to bed a little after midnight, falling asleep with Selina in my arms at quarter of one.

At half past four, Alfred was at my bedside whispering, "Master Bruce?"

My eyes opened slowly, certain that it was a Sunday and I had no need to be awake that early. When I saw the troubled look on his face, my guts churned and I nodded quickly before slipping my arms from my wife's form. Once in the hall with the bedroom doors closed behind me, I growled, "What's happened?"

"Dr. Thompkins called, sir. She said there's been an… an incident."

Wanting to be completely out of earshot of my family, I raced down the steps and made my way to the study, Alfred barely able to keep up with me. I picked up the phone and dialed the digits to Leslie's private line and did my best to control my heart rate as I listened to monotonous rings.

"Hello?" her voice greeted me.

"What is it?" I rushed, my voice loud despite my efforts to control it.

"Bruce, they're fin---."

"What happened, Leslie?" I growled.

"There was a raid, on a drug dealer. Dick took a bullet to the leg, some bruised ribs and a sprained wrist, but he'll be fine in a few weeks… Minimal tissue damage and bleeding---."

"And the others?" I interrupted her again.

"Cassandra was a bit worse off. Bullet entered through the lower left quadrant then went up through the diaphragm, bounced of a rib before exiting out her back. She's not critical but I want to keep her here for a few days---."

"And Tim?"

She paused, causing my heart to skip a beat. Leslie then spoke, "Before I put her under, Cassandra said he was fine, had ordered her to leave while he wrapped things up."

She briefed me in more detail about what she knew about the situation and also about their conditions. Before she hung up, she sighed, "They'll be fine, Bruce."

When I had put the phone back in its cradle, Alfred offered tea. When I silently shook my head, he excused himself after announcing an early breakfast at six-thirty, leaving me to my thoughts. I turned my chair and stared out the window for well over an hour, playing over the countless possibilities, good and bad, that could have happened. It was as the very beginnings of dawn broke on the horizon that I heard soft mechanical sound and then footsteps as a figure emerged from the Cave's entrance.

When the entrance was sealed, I heard a soft sigh of frustration and then quiet footsteps as Tim made his way out of the room. When he neared the door, I announced my presence, "Alfred will be making breakfast shortly," while I pivoted the chair to face him.

"Jesus…" Tim muttered as he turned to see me.

"I would imagine you worked up an appetite."

Tim looked exhausted, mentally and physically.

"You heard?" When I nodded, he looked at his feet, "Of course you did."

I cleared my throat before replying, "Not all of it. Only the ending from Leslie."

He cringed slightly, but just enough to be noticeable. I rose, walked to the front of my desk and sat in one of the two leather sitting chairs, glancing at the second one. Tim hesitated, then walked back over and took a seat as well.

After a moment, he shook his head, "I don't know where the beginning starts."

I offered a half-smirk before saying, "Generally, it starts at the beginning."

He looked up, then smiled to see I had been joking. After drawing a long breath he started, "I don't think we have enough time for that."

"Then how about the beginning of last night?"

He paused again, looked up at me and then down at his feet. In the few instances when Tim thought he was in trouble or wasn't living up to his title, I had tried to offer some form of support or aide. Mostly because when I had first started out, I had no one to look to for guidance or help, despite how much I needed it. He always seemed uncomfortable coming to me outside of asking for another perspective on a case. In part, I suppose I was to blame, as I had not been compassionate all along.

I sat quietly, motionless, as he recounted the beginning of his patrols. He recounted details that I would not have even bothered to recall, such as weather and traffic conditions. Then again, he had always been one to be thorough…

From there he recanted on how Nightwing had visited one of the stake out points he didn't have time to get to. Delegation that he then said he regretted since it was indeed the site of Hades' operation. He pointed out he had been the last to arrive, and had not tried to locate Nightwing at any point during the situation, of which he was upset about since his partner had been injured.

"But when I had finally found Hades, I found myself thinking about… being distracted. He was getting in these cheap shot blows that he shouldn't have… I should have taken him down in seconds but instead, Batgirl came in, even though I told her to stay off the second floor… And she just stood there when he aimed and… I don't know, something snapped and she just flung herself at him…" Tim shook his head, "As if she wanted to be in the line of fire."

I thought back nearly ten years when I had dove in front of Jim Gordon, suddenly knowing all too well what had gone through Cassandra's mind.

I stood slowly, turned and looked out the windows again, this time noticing the faint outlines of deer in the field behind the house. I knew he was still sitting, patiently waiting for me to tell him where he had failed and how he could have changed the outcome with alternative actions.

Instead of lying to him, I simply turned and headed for the door.

"Bruce, wait…" he stood and followed me into the hall, "Where did it go wrong?"

Pausing, I turned and looked at him, "No lives were lost. You have suspects in custody with incriminating evidence… I don't see anything wrong. Do you?"

His eyes widened, "What? Nightwing and Batgirl were both injured, they could have been ki…" he rethought his wording, "It could have been a lot worse."

When he paused, I spoke, "Precisely. It could have been. But it wasn't."

Tim shook his head, "That's not the point, Bruce," his voice grew to a growl, "I failed them. And in failing them I failed myself, this city… and you."

I fought the urge to grimace, aware of his predisposition to compare himself to his mentors. After all, I had done the same when I was his age. I waited a moment before stepping towards him, slowly setting my hand on his shoulder, "You didn't fail anyone, Tim. You did what you could. Sometimes that's all you can do."

Before he could say another word, Alfred appeared from around the corner, smiling at the sight of our guest, "Will Master Timothy be joining you for breakfast, sir?"

We both looked at the younger man who nodded, "How could I resist your bacon cheddar omelets, Alfred?"

I turned just in time to see Alfred's smirk, "I fear it is the kryptonite to the Dark Knight, young sir."

^V^


	9. What Lies Ahead: IX

Title: What Lies Ahead: IX

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: A month after the latest fiasco in Gotham, the Family tries to get life back in order.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: The X-Files episode Dick references is Dreamland. The Rod Stewart song that Dick sings is "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?"

^V^

Considering the importance of the date, I chose not to wake Master Bruce and Ms. Selina. By not attending to them, I made my first stop at the door just before the master bedroom: the nursery. I took on the task of changing young Master Nathan and feeding him his morning bottle before putting him back to bed.

However, I did wake one member of the household.

Opening the bedroom door, I peered in and whispered, "Miss Mattie?"

The slumbering child sat up slowly, blinking as she yawned. When her startling blue eyes found me she smiled, "I'll be down in a minute; I want to get dressed for breakfast."

I nodded and said, "Very well then, I shall meet you downstairs."

While I waited for Miss Mattie, I started a pot of fresh French roast coffee and went about mentally preparing breakfast. As the sweet aroma of the coffee filled the room, I heard a footsteps skipping in the hallway. My sous chef had arrived.

I sliced a dozen oranges in half and then handed them over to my assistant, who in turn pressed them into the fruit press. While she was busy, I heated milk and cream on the stove before adding butter and a bit of yeast. Once steam began to rise from the mixture, I then whisked in two eggs, saving one egg white. It wasn't long before Miss Mattie had the carafe full of orange juice and was ready to take on a new task. I asked her to add the sugar to the juice before putting it in the refrigerator to cool.

When she closed the door, she turned to me and smiled, "What's next?"

"If you would like, you may help me with the croissant dough."

"Sure," she smiled before getting on the stool next to the counter. After I added in the flour and sugar, I helped her knead the dough for a few minutes. We left it in a glass bowl to rise while moving on to preparing the waffle batter. As I poured the batter onto the iron, the dough was ready to be kneaded again. I let Miss Mattie work the dough and then helped her roll it out and cut it into wedges.

"What's left, Alfred?"

After I set the tray of croissants in the oven, I replied, "I believe we are missing a crucial element."

She paused, thought quietly before saying, "We should have fruit. To put on the waffles."

"Excellent decision."

I put Miss Mattie as the guard of the timer on the waffle iron while I sliced strawberries and raspberries. We then traded positions in the kitchen as I poured batter for more waffles while she arranged the fruit on a small platter. After carrying everything out to the breakfast table, we returned to the kitchen to select dishware and to bring out beverages. I watched on with a slight smile as Miss Mattie added sugar and cream to her mother's coffee.

We stood side by side, appraising our accomplishments. Before I was able to suggest that she wash up for breakfast, Miss Mattie said, "Wait! We forgot something!" before racing back into the kitchen. She returned a moment later with the small vase of flowers that had been on the kitchen countertop. After placing it perfectly in the center of the table, "There, now it's perfect."

As I tended to the kitchen, she took on the task of waking her parents. Just as I gave the counter one last inspection, I heard quiet voices in the hall. Carefully, I made my way to the doorway between the kitchen and the nook, being sure to stay out of sight. I watched on as Miss Mattie led her parents into the room, "Keep your eyes closed…"

Master Bruce, who had his giggling son in his arms, spoke quietly to his wife, causing her to smile radiantly.

As their daughter paused, she looked up at them before saying, "Okay, open them!"

Both did as they were told, and the sight before them caused them to smile. Ms. Selina leaned and kissed her daughter's head, "This is wonderful, Mattie… Oh, Bruce look at this…"

He nodded before setting young Nathan into his high chair, "This is very thoughtful of you, kitten." Master Bruce took his seat, taking a sip of his coffee before smirking.

The child beamed with pride, "Alfred helped me," she glanced back at the kitchen briefly before reviewing the contents of the menu with her parents.

"Well, that's very nice of you, the both of you," Ms. Selina smiled as she sat beside her husband.

I left them to enjoy their breakfast and tended to a few menial tasks about the house. I collected laundry from the various bedrooms, made the beds and quickly tidied things up in the bathrooms. By the time I returned to the kitchen, Master Bruce and Nathan had left and Ms. Selina and Miss Mattie were collecting the dishes.

I interrupted, "I'll tend to that---."

Ms. Selina shook her head, "Oh, no you won't."

Miss Mattie looked up at me, "We've got it, Alfred."

Instead of battling willpowers with the women of the household, I asked as to where Master Bruce and his son had gone. Ms. Selina smiled but her daughter was the one to offer a reply, "Nathan wore most of his breakfast. Dad's giving him a bath upstairs."

I nodded, "Ah. Well if there is nothing else, I do have a few errands to run in town."

"All right," Ms. Selina smiled, handing over the two empty coffee mugs to her daughter, telling her to put them in the sink. When we were alone, she leaned in kissed my cheek, "Thank you, Alfred. For everything."

"My dear, I would not be able to live with myself if Master Bruce had prepared your breakfast this morning, of all mornings."

She smirked before pulling back a strand of raven hair, "He wanted to?"

I nodded slowly, "He asked if I would assist him in the process… Instead, I suggested that Miss Mattie take on the task."

"Afraid he would scorch your skillets?"

"Along with the rest of the kitchen, I fear," I paused before adding, "That and Miss Mattie does seem to have a natural gift for the culinary art."

She smiled at me, "That she does…" she picked up the remaining dishes from the table before facing me again, "Alfred?"

"Yes, madam?"

Ms. Selina paused before responding, "Did Bruce tell you anything else he had planned for today?"

"I'm afraid not. Any arrangements made, he took care of himself."

She bit her lip briefly, "Hm… He won't tell me what he's up to… I don't know whether to be grateful or frightened."

I smiled, "As long as it doesn't involve the kitchen, I wouldn't fret too much, Ms. Selina."

^V^

I reminded myself that I loved my husband very much.

I reminded myself that he had been shot a month earlier.

I reminded myself that if I killed him, I'd have to answer to Bruce.

Although he felt he was fit for duty, Leslie had threatened Dick's well being if he pushed his injuries too far. Although his ribs and other minimal injuries had healed nicely, his leg had suffered undue strain when he had decided to start working out a week after being shot. Hence Leslie's orders to have him tarred and feathered if she even saw his shadow out at night.

Unfortunately, Hades hadn't injured Dick's jaw, so he had taken to talking constantly. To himself, to me, to anyone who dropped in at the Clocktower. After two weeks, I begged my father to pick him up and take him to work during the day. At least there he could be productive while bothering someone else.

I was at the table, drinking coffee and doing my best to wake up when I heard a pair of bare feet pad into the kitchen. I glanced up and smiled to see Dick's near comatose form working on autopilot as he poured a cup of coffee and began to drink it straight. Wanting to maintain his night owl routine and forbidden from bothering me in my workstation, he had started watching late night television. He had informed me that he had managed to settle on a four hour block of adult cartoons in addition to a two hour block of reruns of The X-Files.

"Long night?" I asked him.

He nodded, "Yeah, they only showed Part One of a two part X-Files episode… So now I have to wait until tonight to see how Mulder is going to switch back to his own body before Scully nails the Area 51 guy who she thinks is Mulder…" he paused before sighing, "Never mind."

I smirked, "I fear what lies ahead for your dignity once I tell Bruce that you're turning into a geek."

"Not as big of a geek as you," he snickered. After refilling his mug and adding his customary quarter cup of sugar, Dick sat down next to me at the table. "So what's for breakfast?"

I had been sipping my own coffee when he had boldly asked the question. After setting my mug down, I raised an eyebrow at him, "Excuse me?"

"I asked what was for…" when I glared at him, he translated my thoughts precisely, "Uh, I asked what you wanted for breakfast."

Although I told him I would love scrambled eggs and an English muffin, I was thinking, Victory is mine. I watched on as he started making breakfast, waiting a few minutes before asking him, "When was your appointment with Leslie?"

While beating the eggs in a glass mixing bowl, he turned to face me, "This afternoon. Hopefully it goes well and she relinquishes her hold on me. Kind of feel bad for Tim, being out alone."

I shook my head, "Cass has been going out at night."

His brows rose, "Really? He said she hadn't."

I sighed, "Well, she has. And apparently she has been avoiding him successfully."

Dick poured the eggs into the heated skillet before setting the empty bowl and used whisk in the sink. "I don't get it. How could he not know that? How could I not know that?" he paused before adding offering a third question, this time his voice irregularly whiney, "How did she get cleared by Leslie before me?"

Shrugging my shoulders, "She must have actually listened to what the doctor told her."

He was quiet as he fluffed the eggs with a spatula before putting two English muffins in the toaster, "She's such a goody two shoes, who listens to medical advice theses days anyway."

I couldn't help but smile at his anguish. I had known that Cass had been cleared for duty for well over a week. One for uniting against the masked men, I had agreed to give her a heads up as to when Tim was calling it a night so that she could get home before him. When he had dropped in at the Clocktower one night, I had been talking to her on the comm. link. Upon being questioned as to who else I was aiding, I told him that Black Canary was lonely on a European mission and had hit me up for some girl chat.

What had transpired between them the night Hades was taken into custody had been their first official fight. Unexpected and not a typical couple fight, his barking orders at her to leave had struck a very wrong chord. Yes, she was injured and it was best that she left to seek medical attention, but she, of all of us, knew how to handle injuries. David Cain had taught her that her that at a young age when he shot her in the back. I remembered the tape Bruce had shown me. Her reaction been to simply turn and stare at him, as if to ask, "What was that for?"

Nevertheless, the Batman had ordered her out and she had ordered him to Hell.

The resulting feud had been a silent one. Although they still lived in the townhouse, Cass often left early in the morning to drop by the Clocktower, or to head over to the office to help out my father and Dick. She then made her way up to Bristol to watch Mattie's soccer game or to simply spend time with the young girl. By the time she made it back into the city, she was suiting up and sneaking off into the night.

Tim, on the other hand, slept off most of the day, taking up residence in a guest room while leaving the master bedroom to Cass. After waking sometime in the afternoon, he'd begin to punish his body in the satellite Bat-Cave, ignoring any calls any of us tried to make. Dick had dropped by a few times, catching Tim in the midst of any number of rigorous exercises, from destroying a sand bag to jumping rope faster than the speed of light. From there, he was only a cowl and cape away from a long night of brutal patrols, taking on the city like a madman.

A Batman.

As Dick served breakfast, the phone rang. I excused myself and grabbed the portable off of an oak stand in the hallway, "Hello?"

"Barbara, it's Selina."

"Hi, what's up?"

"Oh, just had a little downtime, figured I would call."

"You? With nothing to do?"

She laughed, "Bruce is dropping Mattie off at her first day of soccer camp and Nathan's snoring on the bed and Alfred is out running errands." When I asked if her whole day was going to be that quiet, she paused, "Actually I'm not sure… Bruce and his secrecy fetish…"

I heard Dick call out a warning from the kitchen that if I didn't come back soon, my breakfast wouldn't last much longer left unattended. I wished Selina a good day before hanging up, quickly returning to my spot at the kitchen table. Sure enough, Dick's fork was ready to take advantage of my unguarded plate, but when I cleared my throat, he set the utensil back down.

"Hon, I just couldn't control it. My hunger is too much for me to handle."

"You're too much for me to handle," I added.

We both ate quietly for a moment before he asked, "So, who was that?"

I smiled, "Just the pool guy that I'm having an affair with." Before he could try to brush off my joke, I added, "Selina. Just wanted to see how things were."

Dick nodded as he sprinkled pepper on his eggs, "You wives and your wife talk." When I looked at him for an explanation and watched as his lips formed into a familiar smirk that I fell in love with years ago.

After breakfast, he showered and dressed for the day and even over the morning news program, I could hear him singing something by Rod Stewart. I was in the middle of trying to name the song when I heard a soft knock at the door. Forgetting the tune, I made my way to the entrance and opened the door.

"Morning, dear."

I smiled as my father leaned in and kissed my cheek, "Good morning, Dad. I wish I knew you were coming, I would have had breakfast ready for you."

"That's all right, I already ate," he stepped in and shut the door behind him, "I figured I'd come visit quick with you, and see if Dick wanted to carpool in so he can rest up for his appointment."

I laughed as I led the way to the den, "Yeah, he's pretty much ready to burst if he misses one more night of action."

After Dad sat in one of the leather arm chairs, he fixed his tie and sighed, "So I dropped Frank off to the vet's this morning."

I paused, recollecting my father telling me about Frank's ear infection. "Oh, that's right… I'm sure he'll be fine."

The worried look that was spreading across his face reminded of every time I was sick as a child. I suppose that made Frank my step-bulldog.

Before I could call out to Dick to tell him that his partner had arrived, I heard his off key voice approaching; still belting out loud and proud, "If you want my body and you think I'm sexy, come on sugar let me know... If you really need me just reach out and touch me

come on---."

When silence fell, I looked over my shoulder to see his shocked face, staring directly at the laughing form of my father.

Dick smirked awkwardly before finishing, "… Come on, honey tell me so."

^V^

"Well, Dick, if this security firm ever goes belly up, you could always make it as a singer," I glanced over at my son-in-law, who was still trying to recover his dignity.

Dick glanced up briefly from his desk, forcing a half-hearted smile

For the first half of the morning, we had spent it lazily returning phone calls and scheduling appointments and site visits for later in the week. With Dick meeting with Dr. Thompkins in the afternoon and with my appointment to pick up my dog, we decided to call it a half day and close up early.

Cassandra had shown up a little after ten with coffee for both of us and a Milkbone for Frank. When I told her that he was at the veterinary clinic for the day, she frowned, then handed me the treat, "You can give it to him for me."

"Will do," I paused before telling her about the shortened hours.

She nodded, "Sounds good. I have some errands to run, too."

Up until recently, Cassandra had only dropped by to help out when we were swamped and needed an extra hand. But in the last month, she had been in nearly every day of the week, often meeting me at the door when I arrived to open things up. At first, I had been concerned because I knew she had been injured in the Hades run to a grave extent. Dick had bed on bed rest for a few days after the incident and I had wondered if Cassandra had been given the same orders.

When Dick returned to work, I had mustered the courage to ask him what was going on. With Cassandra off to the copy shop for the afternoon, we had the privilege of privacy and his answer was more honest than I had expected. Learning of the conflict between Tim and Cassandra had been disheartening, as they had never had troubles in the past. Even with him stepping up into the guise of Batman. As Dick explained exactly what had gone down the night of the bust, I recognized a frighteningly familiar turn of events.

"So she dove in front of him, knowing about the armor piercing rounds?"

Dick had nodded, his eyes showing that he too was aware of the significance of the young woman's actions. It had been loyalty that driven her. Doing everything physically possible to save the life of another was one of the beliefs that all of them had learned to live by.

Even if it meant sacrificing your safety. Or life.

And their mentor had certainly set the par for the course.

With my mind drifting back over the last few weeks, I was taken aback when my desk phone began to ring. I picked it up on the third ring.

"Mr. Gordon?"

God it still took me back not hearing a different title before my name… "Yes, this is him."

"This Maria at Compassionate Care Animal Hospital. I'm calling to inform you that Frank has just finished up with his appointment with Dr. Liddell and is ready to be picked up."

"Oh, good, good. Did he find anything?"

"Let me check here…" she paused and I overheard the clatter of typing, "He has an ear infection but Dr. Liddell has prescribed aural medicated drops that should clear it up."

As a wave of relief washed over me, I told her I would be over around one to get him. When I hung up, Dick was on the phone and it didn't take long for me to discern that it was my daughter. Or at least I hoped he wouldn't say, "Oh come on, you know you love it when I sing the sexy song," to one of our clients.

After shutting down my computer and picking up my belongings, I stood and walked over to his desk. When he looked up, I whispered that I was heading out and he nodded with a slight grin before responding to Barbara, "I realize that now, Babs… Well you could have given me a heads up you know."

Cassandra, who was standing at the office's laser printer, looked up as I headed for the door. I nodded at her and she smiled back. Perhaps things were on the mend between her and Tim. Or at least I hoped so.

The half hour drive to the animal hospital put my arrival fifteen minutes earlier than expected. Even still, the waiting area was nearly empty aside from a whining German Shepard and a crated cat that was uttering low growls. I walked up to the receptionist, gave her my name and then waited as she paged someone in the kennels to fetch Frank. I stood by as the young woman totaled up my bill of which ended up being a little higher than I had expected. When I looked over the items on the bill, I was surprised to see that his ear drops had cost more than his appointment and boarding.

"Pretty potent stuff, I bet," I muttered as I handed over my credit card.

The receptionist smirked and handed over a small orange medicine bottle, "That it is. Five drops in both ears twice a day and within a week it should be cleared up. We'll call you in two weeks to make sure that everything's okay and if not we can reschedule another appointment."

Signing my name on the receipt, I nodded, "Sounds good."

I waited another two minutes before hearing Frank's grumbled breathing. A teenager entered the waiting room from a side entrance carrying the French bulldog's writhing form. When he saw me he let out a raspy bark and wiggled even faster. I decided to spare the poor girl and walked over to pick him up, "Thank you."

She smiled, "He's a real clown. We loved having him."

I looked down as Frank bathed my jaw with his tongue, "You? A clown?"

I turned to leave when I felt the girl's finger on my arm. As I moved to face her again, she looked up at me, lower lip clamped down by her incisors, "Um, I don't mean to be nosy, but Frank's kennel card said that James Gordon was his owner."

Nodding, I replied, "Yep, that's me."

The girl fought a smile, "My dad was a detective when you were the commissioner. Peter Arisma."

Of the decades I spent on the force, I had met tens of thousands of police officers and detectives. But for some reason, I felt as this name was familiar. Important.

"He was in Narcotics, I think. He always said that you were the best thing that ever happened to the police department."

As I looked into the girl's almond colored eyes, the image of her father suddenly formed in my mind. Tall, well-built man with sandy brown hair and the same almond hued eyes. Slight Jersey inflection as he had relocated from there to Gotham, as I recalled it was because his wife, Anita, had been transferred to the Gotham branch of First National Bank.

"Do you remember him?"

He had died in the line of duty nearly ten years ago.

I set a hand on the girl's thin shoulder, "I do. I remember the Narc boys picked on him because of his accent."

The girl's eyes lit up and a smile exploded on her face. A pager on her belt suddenly went off and she looked back at the door she had come from, "I… I have to go."

I offered a curt nod, "Okay. Tell your mom I said hello."

"I will. I will. Bye Frank!" she pet the dog's flat face quickly before heading to the door and passing through it.

Once outside, I let Frank down, attached his leash and then walked him to my car. I opened the driver's side door and waited for him to hop in and trot over to the passenger seat. After I was seated, I turned the ignition and looked down at my companion. His tongue curled out passed his lips as he panted with excitement.

I reached over and roughed up his fur, "I don't about you big guy, but I think we just made that girl's day.

He replied with a brief grunt of agreement.

^V^

Even though there was a chance of showers, it was nothing but clear skies well into the afternoon. In all senses it was perfect weather for early June. Perfect weather, perfect day, perfect husband…

With Mattie at soccer camp for the day and Alfred watching Nathan, Bruce and I had driven up to the Preserve. With Bruce behind the wheel, I tried to feign ambivalence by reading a Cosmo magazine I had picked up at the gas station. After about ten minutes, I finally asked, "So what are we doing tonight?"

He shrugged, eyes never leaving the road, "You'll have to wait and see."

Ten minutes and a How Spicy is Your Sex Life Quiz later, "Seriously, Bruce, what are we doing?"

"Something."

"Something in Gotham?"

"This is really annoying," he had replied.

"Well, if you would just tell me than I would stop asking," I paused before reaching over and gently clawing his leg, "Dear."

I made one more attempt at asking him but he remained stoic. Returning back to the magazine, I chanced a look at him every so often to see him intently staring forward, his face calm if not somber. I wouldn't have minded so much if Alfred was in on the evening's plans, but with him in the dark there was a slight cause for concern.

Upon arriving at the Preserve, I checked in at the main office and pretended to review the weekly reports while watching Bruce out of the corner of my eye. He stood at the bulletin board, casually scanning the various flyers and news articles that were tacked up. When I set the collection of papers down on the front desk, I walked over and hooked my arm with Bruce's, "Now where to?"

He smirked ever so slightly before saying, "A walk would be nice."

We set out for our usual walk, touring part of the perimeter of the facility on foot as we stopped to look at the cats resting or playing. We alternated between holding ands and locking arms as we made our way down the shady trail in complete silence. We paused briefly at the bobcat paddock to see a pair of six month old male siblings romping in their creek. I whistled lowly and they looked up for just a moment before going about mauling one another. When we were just about that halfway into the walk, nearly a mile from the main facility, I spotted something peculiar and out of place on the trail ahead.

A white blanket laid out on with a picnic basket and a place setting for two.

The cougar paddock was to our right, a fifteen acre section of woods and mountainside that three aged cougars called home. They had come in as a trio, retired movie stars in need of a relaxing environment away from the cameras. As Bruce and I settled down to eat, they were no where in sight but halfway through our meal, Rocky, the eldest, could be seen mere yards away, eyeing our chicken salad pitas.

"I thought dogs begged for food, not cats," Bruce muttered as he tore the peel off of an orange.

I laughed, "My cat doesn't beg for food."

He glared at me, "No, of course not. She persistently demands to be hand fed by clawing at the flesh of your leg."

"Exactly. Not begging."

After not getting any attention or leftovers, the male cougar slowly sauntered off. While I put the used dishware in the woven basket, Bruce reclined onto his back, eyes closed. I set the basket aside and did the same, resting my head on his shoulder as he circled an arm around me.

"So how long have you been planning this?"

He sighed before replying, "A while."

"… Who set this up?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

He shrugged, "I can't."

I turned onto my side and moved closer to him, "I have ways of making you talk, you know."

"No, you don't."

After sitting up, I moved over top of him, straddling his hips, "Oh, but I do."

Bruce shook his head.

Leaning forward, I placed my lips on his throat, kissing the sensitive flesh, surprised when instead of snickering as he usually did, he yawned.

I let my weight rest on his torso as I spoke into his ear, "Rough night?"

He paused before saying, "You were there. You tell me."

Laughing, I planted a kiss just behind his ear before rolling off of him and onto my side.

After a moment, I said, "I propose we take a cat nap."

"Proposal accepted," Bruce replied quietly.

I waited another minute, listening as his breathing became slow and regular, "Bruce?"

He took a while to respond, "Hmm?"

"Are you asleep?"

A short pause before, "Mmm-hmm."

"When do we have to go into Gotham?"

"Not… going to Gotham."

I kissed his neck, "Where are we going?"

"Mars."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw his lips fighting to remain somber.

After slapping his chest, I sat up and watched as Bruce smiled briefly. Before I could yell at him for picking on me, I felt a strong forearm wrap around my midsection. As I began to protest, his other arm snaked around me as well, pulling me back on top of him.

"Bruce, let go!" I cried out, too much laughter in my voice for it to be threatening.

"On one condition," he spoke while looking directly into my eyes. "Stop asking questions. Just… trust me."

I loosened in his grasp and sighed, "Fine. But whatever you have planned better involve champagne."

"Oh it will," he responded as he pressed his lips to my neck.

"And diamonds."

"But of course," he said while one of his hands traveled up my back while the other moved in the opposite direction.

When his lips met mine, it took a while for me to summon the will to part from him to add, "And a lot more of this."

^V^

I couldn't take it anymore.

The awkward looks and silences, the way he hid from me up at the Bat-Cave during the day and then avoided me at the house.

Then again, I wasn't really making myself that available either.

With Dick and Jim shutting the office down early, I walked around Gotham for a while, passing parks full of happy people and cars full of those engorged with road rage. With no destination in mind, it was no shock when I found myself arriving at the Clocktower. With all of the problems Dick and Barbara had faced over the years, I had gone to her several times in order try and deal with whatever was going on.

And as I rode up in the elevator, I realized this was good as time as any for another chat.

I let myself in, kicked off my shoes and then called out, "Barbara?"

There was music reverberating from the den, some raspy voiced male singer belting out about one for all and all for love. I called out her name again, but was met with no reply. I found her on the floor in the den, nodding her head to the music as she scanned the newspapers that were spread out before her on the carpet.

"Coupon clipping?" I asked just loud enough for her to hear.

She spun her head around to face me, smiled and then grabbed the remote. Once the volume was lowered, she responded, "Nah, I'm not that old of a lady yet."

"Didn't know you were even a lady."

Barbara laughed and glanced back at the papers, "No there were a few articles of interest. City crime rates. New DA running for office. Batman and company…"

I sat on the couch facing her, tucking my legs up underneath me, "Must have missed them."

"Right, well it's hard to find current events in the comics," Barbara smirked as she folded up the papers before setting them on the coffee table, "So, what are you up to today?"

"Nothing."

"I noticed," she glanced at her watch, "Have you eaten?"

I had bought two soft pretzels on my way over but I shook my head, "Not yet."

"You want to go out to lunch?"

After shrugging, I asked her, "You buying?"

She rolled her eyes, "You're almost as bad as Dick."

We traveled the four blocks north to a deli I had practically lived off of when we had lived together. My constant assault on her kitchen and pantry had ended when she had signed me up for a frequent customer card. Buy ten lunches, get two free. There was a long stretch when I could garner up to ten free lunches a month.

Luckily, despite the busy lunch hour, "our" table was empty. I scanned through the menu as if I didn't already have my entire lunch planned out. A waitress neither of us recognized walked up and asked to take our orders. Barbara had decided on the BLT finger sandwiches while I had selected one of my favorites: the chicken southwestern wrap with extra cheese.

While waiting for our drinks and sandwiches, Barbara scratched at one of her cuticles, "So, things any better at home?"

I sat back, knowing I had wanted to talk to her but unsure about doing so in such a social setting. She must have picked up on my reluctance for she smiled, "Cass, if you listen to half the conversations in this room, I bet their about relationship troubles. And besides that, no one knows you here. At least beyond the fact that you are the world's fittest glutton."

Managing to relax somewhat, I leaned forward and twirled the salt shaker in my palms, "I don't know. I want things to go back to the way they were… But it's not my fault."

"It's his?"

Our drinks arrived and I took several sips of my lemonade before answering, "It's not my fault."

She squeezed a lemon wedge into her iced tea and nodded silently.

"It's not."

"I didn't say it was, Cass."

"But?"

She shrugged, picked a piece of lint off of her shirt before looking up at me, "But, it's not his either."

Feeling slightly betrayed, I asked, "So you're on his side?"

"I'm not on anyone's side, the price I pay for being friends with both of you. Cass… You two, of all our whole twisted family, are as close to normal as possible. You both have equally painful histories but you two have overcome them flawlessly."

She paused but I had no response for her.

Barbara continued, "I know what Tim did seems insulting, like he doesn't appreciate your skills and your own personal knowledge but I've been in your situation. I couldn't even count the times that… He ordered me off a case or sent me away from a situation… Even Dick sometimes would have the gall to tell me I wasn't ready. And as much as I hated it, Cass, and I mean really, deep down hated it… I knew they were looking out for me. Protecting me from my own stubborn desire to put myself in over my head…"

"But I was raised from birth for this…"

"Which makes you more likely to get yourself in danger," she interrupted me.

"That's not true," I said but my voice lacked conviction.

Barbara didn't even hesitate to reply, "If it weren't true, Cass, then why did you jump into the line of fire?"

Our orders arrived and we ate in silence.

And we paid in silence.

It wasn't until we had made our way back to the Clocktower that Barbara finally spoke up. "Cass, you came here for my advice, right?"

I nodded, not ready to offer a verbal response.

"Then here it is. It's his fault, it's your fault… The blame goes on both of your shoulders for letting something like this come between you." She unlocked the front door and disappeared into the lobby, "My advice is for you both to apologize to one another… the sooner the better."

After taking the subway to the office earlier in the day, I ended up riding it back to the Bryanttown station. Instead of walking directly home, I toured the park where Tim and I often took Mattie when we watched her. I found the swing set she favored and sat for a while, letting the light breeze sway me. It wasn't until a little after five that I finally stood, relinquishing my swing to a pair of girl's in pigtails.

When I finally made it home, Tim's Honda was in the driveway and when I touched its hood, I was surprised to find that it was warm. I made my entry louder than usual, kicking off my shoes and tossing them into the coat closet. Moving into the house, I became aware of two things: music over the townhouse's speaker system and the sweet scent of egg rolls. Following the tangy aroma of Chinese takeout, I made my way to the kitchen to see Tim pouring rice onto two plates.

I stepped through the doorway and asked, "Expecting someone?"

He glanced up with a jerk, spilling some rice. After he set the empty carton down, he wiped up his mess and threw it in the trash. He then looked back at me, "This girl I'm seeing… I was hoping she would have dinner with me."

After approaching him slowly, I paused and took a seat at one of the stools next to the counter. Thinking back on Barbara's words, I felt the need to get things cleared between us, to get passed whatever this was… Instead, I went along with his charade, "So this girl… Is she nice?"

"The best," he said before licking a bit of sauce from his fingertips.

"Lucky girl."

He looked up at me, the smirk on his lips doing battle with the longing in his eyes, "No, lucky guy."

There was a long stretch when only the music broke the silence.

Then, without warning we both said, "I'm sorry."

Barbara was right.

The sooner, the better.

^V^

We didn't get back from the Preserve until a little before four, leaving us very little time to get showered and changed. Selina, as promised, didn't ask anymore questions about the night's agenda. She dozed off and on during the ride home and when I asked if she was asleep, she would sit up quickly and adjust her hair, "No, I'm fine."

The third time it happened, she didn't wake up and I decided to let her sleep.

Upon arriving home, Mattie was playing with Nathan in the den under Alfred's careful watch. Both were delighted to see our return, and where Mattie leapt up and ran towards us, Nathan sat up and clapped his hands as he laughed. I took them while Selina left to get dressed, giving Alfred a temporary reprieve. Before heading upstairs, Selina asked what she should wear.

I whispered into Mattie's ear and she replied, "The black Gucci, Mom. The really pretty one."

While I waited, I fed and changed Nathan and set him in his crib. Alfred said he hadn't been quiet enough to nap all afternoon and when he yawned as I pulled his blanket over him, I knew why. Mattie said she had a project to work on in her room and that I couldn't go in there. I obeyed and told her to keep an ear out for Nathan while I got dressed.

She had grinned at me before sneaking into her room, "Sure thing, Dad, just don't come in here."

When I entered the master bedroom, Selina, clad in a strapless bra and stockings, was holding up a long black dress to her form as she looked in the mirror. When my reflection joined hers, she smiled, "Is this the really pretty one or just the quasi pretty one?"

I stepped up behind her and kissed her cheek, "The really pretty one."

Within a half of an hour we were ready to go. Nathan was sound asleep and we decided not to disturb him. A knock on Mattie's half-opened door yielded her rushed voice, "Just a second…"

She appeared in the doorframe and smiled, "Mom, it is really pretty…"

I smiled, "I told you, dear."

We kissed her good-bye, told Alfred we were leaving and then set out for the road. I sat behind the wheel once more, unsure as to the heels on Selina's feet being proper driving footwear. Selina said it was just because I was a man. When I passed the downtown exit we normally took, Selina sat up slightly. Her curiosity peaked when I hit the turn signal and guided the car onto an exit to the airport.

She started to ask where we were going but I interrupted, "Trust me."

"Okay, but I really couldn't squeeze my passport into this dress, Bruce."

"We're not leaving the country."

"The state?"

I nodded as I pulled up to the private entrance used by those deemed worthy enough to keep their aircrafts at the international airport. Not fifteen minutes later, the Gulfstream IV was taxiing onto the runway, ready for take off. Selina was beaming despite the strong desire to ask why we were on a plane that was evident in her fidgeting. An hour and fifteen minutes later, we landed and stepped off of the plane to a waiting limousine.

I held her hand as she made her way into the vehicle while she said, "From the cool, salty air and Massachusetts license plates, my deductive reasoning says we're in Boston."

"You are correct," I smiled as I settled into the seat beside her.

"Why are we in Boston?"

I sighed before saying once more, "I said trust me."

We made our six-thirty reservation at Dolce Vita five minutes late, but the maitre d was all but willing to change the clocks to "Wayne Time." For more than an hour, we shared Greco di Tufo wine, sweet bruschetta and Risotto Primavera. When it was time for dessert, Selina tried to beg the charming waiter off but he insisted she at least sample the Amaretto cheesecake.

As we made our way out of the restaurant, she leaned into me and asked, "Now what?"

I paused before answering her, "A walk would be nice."

We toured the block on foot, my arm wrapped around her waist. When we finally found an empty stretch of the sidewalk, she kissed me, the sweet taste of Disaronno on her lips. Returning to the limo, she bit her lip to keep from asking what was next on the agenda and simply entwined her fingers with mine.

At ten of eight, the limo pulled up to the theatre district and paused momentarily in traffic directly in front of a theatre house. Selina took one look at the glowing sign and growled, "We are not seeing Cats."

I grinned, "No, we're not."

A few minutes later, we stepped out of the limo and walked into the Boston Opera House where the national tour of Mamma Mia was having its premiere performance. Selina and I made a habit of going to stage productions regularly but had yet to see this romantic musical. I had been concerned since it had been based on the story behind the music of ABBA, but I was surprised to see the charm in the storyline.

What was even better was when I caught Selina softly singing along to the music.

The flight back to Gotham seemed much longer than the hour and twenty minutes it actually took. Selina had more champagne, but I stuck to water since I was driving back to the Manor. She hummed music from the performance as she toured the cabin with her empty flute. At one point she proclaimed she wanted the soundtrack as her gift. Feeling the velvet box in my tuxedo jacket's pocket, I smiled wondering if she would settle for the gift I already bought her.

By the time I pulled up the drive to Wayne Manor, Selina was battling, or rather succumbing to a fit of giggles. It had been some time since I had seen her in such a state and I couldn't help but smile. We walked upstairs, although not directly. Twice Selina paused and latched onto me, kissing and biting at my lips and I had no intentions of stopping her.

Once we had reached our floor, I told her I would check on Mattie and Nathan while she changed. She took a sobering breath before squeezing my hand, "Don't be long."

Mattie, who must have been expecting the one of us would check in, had set a painting on the foot of her bed. After drawing the covers up over her shoulders and kissing her brow, I picked up the cardstock and took it into the dim lighting of the hall to exam it. There were a collection of people with their appropriate titles and I instantly recognized our family. I was the largest figure and Nathan was the smallest. A heart was drawn around Selina and I, underneath it was written in Mattie's near perfect cursive writing: Best Parents Ever.

Definitely worthy of posting on the refrigerator.

Nathan also was fast asleep. There was a note on his changing table from Alfred that said he had been last changed at ten that evening before he was put back to bed.

I entered the bedroom quietly; surprised to see it was still dark. After giving a moment for my eyes to adjust, I set the painting on the dresser before going about removing my cuff links. As I went to remove my tie, I heard a soft sigh from behind me. Turning, I smirked to see Selina laying on the bed, her dress and shoes still on. I took a minute to remove my clothes before tending to her.

The second I set a hand on her leg to remove her shoes, she spoke, "I can do it."

"Oh, but allow me," I said.

I managed to get her shoes and stockings off before she managed to sit up, "Why am I so tired?"

"Big meal, more than average alcohol consumption, long day on very little sleep…" I replied as I helped her to her feet.

"Aren't you tired?" she reached out, her fingertips tracing my jaw line.

I nodded as I undid the zipper of her dress, of which slipped off almost instantly, pooling at her feet. She leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Hopefully, not too," she yawned before continuing, "Tired."

After turning down the covers, I helped her into bed before lying beside her. Selina moved closer to me, pressing her back against my torso before reaching and pulling my arms around her. She yawned again before saying, "We'll rest our eyes for a bit… then we can ravage each other…"

I kiss her cheek, "Yes, dear."

Her breathing grew slow and regular within minutes and it wasn't long before soft snores escaped her lips. I kissed her again before whispering into her ear, "Happy anniversary."

^V^


	10. What Lies Ahead: X

Title: What Lies Ahead: X

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: Fall brings new changes to the Family, both good and bad.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: The "terrorist lie detector" test that Cass uses on Dick is that seen in the Pine Bluff Variant episode of The X-Files. And it's always good wholesome fun to incorporate the Phantom of the Opera (and of course the almighty Gary Mauer!)

^V^

_In loving memory of my ferocious feline companions…_

_Pirate Kitty and Jaxafrass_

^V^

After nearly two months of being in the third grade, I had begun to look forward to sleeping in on Saturdays. I usually woke up around nine and if Mom and Dad were still asleep, I'd go downstairs and eat breakfast with Alfred before going into the den to watch TV. After a cartoon or two, they were usually up and joined me. Mom always brought Nathan, Dad always brought a newspaper. But as much as I wanted to sleep in that Saturday, I couldn't.

After all, it wasn't every day a girl got to dress her pony up as a pirate for a party.

I was wide awake at seven-thirty that morning, doing my best to go back to sleep. I sighed into my pillow as I stared at Taffy, who was purring as she slept beside me. Deciding I wasn't going to be the only one awake, I scratched her head and waited for her to open her eyes. One lid lifted slightly to reveal a sliver of green before it closed shut.

Deciding extreme measures were needed; I rolled her over onto her back and proceeded to tickle her stomach. She writhed a bit, pawed at my hand and then yawned before slinking away to safety at the end of the bed.

"You're no fun," I said to her as she curled up on the covers.

I stayed in bed for a few more minutes before finally getting up. When I began to creep down the hall towards Mom and Dad's room, I was surprised when I heard their voices. Mom sounded a bit worried but Dad sounded as he always did. Even without being able to understand what they were saying from my end of the hallway, I had a good idea as to what they were talking about.

Isis had been sick for the last few days but nothing too bad. Even still, Mom was worried and had decided last night to take her to the veterinarian in the morning just to be sure. Over dinner last night when she had been discussing it, I had asked if I could go along. Mom had said no before she reminded me that I had to get ready for the Halloween party at the barn.

"And besides, honey, it will be a lot of waiting around at the animal hospital, and that's no fun."

I had nodded in agreement, "I know, remember, I'm the queen of waiting rooms."

Although Mom had smirked at the title Dick had given me when Dad had his knees operated on, Dad shook his head and tried to get Nathan to finish his peas.

Even though they were awake, I still moved as quietly as possible down the hall. At Barbara's house, Dick and I would play hide and go seek and he taught me how to walk just a way that you couldn't hear my footsteps, even on hardwood floors. Looking through the door, I saw that only Mom was sitting on the bed, dressed in dark jeans and a slate blue blouse as she held Isis in her arms.

When I stepped through the door, I spotted Dad on the floor, still wearing pajama pants as he helped Nathan to his feet. He was able to take a few steps by himself but would get nervous and sit down until help would arrive.

"All right, big guy, one more time," Dad smiled at my little brother once he stood on his own, less than two feet away from Dad. When he took his hands away Nathan swayed a bit, bounced on his feet in protest before whining. Dad, still smiling, said, "No, you can do it."

Before announcing my presence, in hopes of not distracting my brother's assignment, I watched on as he toddled one step at a time until he jumped onto Dad. He giggled and bounced in his arms before sliding down to sit on the floor.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Nathan replied with a near toothless grin and a string of words in his own language.

"Morning, Mattie," Mom said suddenly.

"Good morning," I replied as I skipped over and climbed up onto the bed, "How is she?"

"Still the same," she looked down at Isis. She was purring quietly with her eyes half-closed. Even when she was getting her ears cleaned or her nails clipped, Isis could have cared less about the rest of the world as long as Mom held her.

"Have you been up long?" Dad asked with his eyes still on Nathan as he tried to stand once more.

"Not really," I fought back a yawn and asked what we were doing for breakfast.

"Well, I have to leave soon to take Isis to the vet's, so Dad and I were thinking we could meet for brunch in town after she gets done with her appointment."

"I think that is a great idea," I managed as my taste buds tingled with the mere thought of raspberry jam stuffed French Toast.

I leaned forward and kissed Isis' head, "If you feel better, I'll save my whipped cream for you."

"I'm sure that's exactly what the doctor will prescribe," Mom said as she tickled my shoulder, "Why don't you go get washed up and dressed, Dad still has to bathe Nathan."

"Can I help?" I asked suddenly.

Dad looked back at me from the end of the bed, "Sure. Why don't you sit with him while I get his bath water ready," Dad said as he stood.

I rolled off of the bed and sat down next to my baby brother. It was weird how much he looked like me, except his dark hair was straight where mine had been curly. His eyes were a bit lighter than mine, almost a silver color. When Mom and I had put together his photo album over the summer we had compared my baby pictures to his. I thought we could have been twins.

He had found one of his toys, a stuffed caterpillar that lit up when he squeezed it in certain spots. I reached behind him and picked up another toy, a plush teddy bear with a rattler in its tummy. As I entertained him, I listened in on Mom and Dad as they talked.

"I should be done by nine-thirty, so if you make reservations at Madeline's for ten that would work," Mom said just as Dad sat down beside her, "And if not, then you can go ahead, I'll get something at the bakery across from Dr. Allen's office."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine. She said they're going to pull some blood on her, and they might take her for the day for observation."

"I meant are you sure you want to go alone?" Dad asked.

She then said, "No, I'll be fine, you take the kids and I'll call if I can't make it to brunch."

I looked up just as Dad kissed her cheek, "Sounds like a plan."

They caught me looking and Mom smiled as she stood up, "Well, Madame Isis, it's into the kitty crate for you."

"Wait," I said before Mom could put the sleepy black cat into the plastic carrier. I ran to the bay window and grabbed the fleece blanket that sat on the window sill where Isis slept away most afternoons. I put into the crate that sat on the floor beside Mom's feet before looking up, "There, now she can have something from home to make her happy."

"Excellent idea, Mattie. When she wakes up I'm sure she'll appreciate it," Mom kissed my forehead before putting Isis in the carrier. "All right, I guess I'm set, I'll see you at ten," she said to Dad.

He smirked, "It's a date."

After he had headed into the bathroom to set up Nathan's bath, Mom glanced down at me and smiled, "Now make sure you pick out Nathan's outfit before Dad does."

I laughed, thinking on how Dad always over dressed Nathan when we went out. As cute as he looked in his tiny dress pants and little leather shoes, he was more apt to be quiet and comfortable in khakis and sneakers. I promised her I would do so and sat beside Nathan again, "Say bye to Mom, Nathan."

He looked up, waved and said "Buh-buh, Mama."

She grinned at him, "Bye-bye, sweetie."

We played on the floor for another five minutes before Dad said the tub was ready.

Knowing it would be quite the walk for him; I picked up my brother and carried him into the bathroom. Dad was sitting on the edge of the tub adding some baby soap into the water. Sometimes he knelt next to the tub, but since the surgery, most of the time he sat just as he was.

I set him down on his feet right in front of Dad who watched as Nathan balanced on his own feet before stepping closer and grasping the edge of the bath tub. When Dad began to pull off Nathan's shirt he said, "There should be a basket of his toys in the closet, kitten."

"Okay, I'll look." I found the basket sitting on the bottom shelf by itself, full of rubber bath toys varying from ducks to sharks. By time I brought it over, Dad had already undressed Nathan and put him in the shallow water. I began to drop some of the toys into the tub and Nathan latched onto the shark and splashed it in the water.

"Are you coming to the Halloween Party, Dad?"

He nodded, "Your mother was going to stay here with Nathan this afternoon."

I frowned, a little upset that Mom wasn't going to come, mostly because she helped me make the costume for Rusty to wear.

Dad must have noticed the look on my face because he reached out and touched my arm, "You're not upset are you?"

I shrugged, "No. You just have to make sure to take lots of pictures. For Mom."

"For Mom, I would do anything."

^V^

"Whose idea was this?"

As I stared at the mountain of applications sitting on the conference table, I sighed, "Mine."

Jim finished off his coffee and continued, "And therefore should you be complaining?"

I let my head fall forward, landing on the typo-laden résumé of the dim-witted twenty-something applicant that had just left, "No."

"Good. I'm glad we settled it. More coffee?" he asked as he stood.

"Please," I moaned, "And be sure to skip the sugar and go straight to the strychnine."

In light of our increasing client load, Jim and I had finally decided that we needed to take on some additional help. We had been interviewing prospective additions for two days and I was already prepared to just quit the business and live off of my investments. Jim, on the other hand, was surviving the process all too well, having been on a number of hiring committees in his time.

I glanced at my watch, glad to see it was 11:30, indicating this was our last interview before lunch. As Jim returned with fresh coffee for both of us, I selected the next application and attached résumé. William Cutting. I stopped right there to smile at the fact that he shared a name with my favorite character from the movie Gangs of New York. I then let out a low chuckle when I saw that he was in fact from New York City. But instead of a turn of the century gang leader and part-time butcher, he was a retired D-III from one of the Homicide Divisions.

There was a sudden wave of fear that I wouldn't be able to control myself if he walked in with a burly moustache and plaid pants…

A slight rap on the door brought me back into focus and I looked up along with Jim to see Cassandra, "Mr. Cutting is here." She had been roped into playing secretary for the day and had even dressed the part in a sharp black pantsuit with her shoulder length hair tightened into a gravity defying bun.

"Send him in, Cassandra," Jim said briskly as he reached for the résumé and application.

Instead of the burly moustache and plaid pants, William Cutting was clean shaven and sported a tailored charcoal suit and burgundy tie. His date of birth on the application put him as being five years older than me but you would have never guessed. Close cropped brown hair was free of grays and his face was clear of wrinkles and scars.

Must be nice, I found myself thinking.

Jim and I rose and shook hands with William over the conference table. He corrected us, his voice slightly inflicted by the Bronx, "Please, call me Will. My mother calls me William and it's only when she wants me to help her move old furniture out of the attic."

Amiable start, personifying himself by referring to his mother.

"How long have you been in Gotham, Will?" Jim asked suddenly.

"Just a few months. I've been working as a security guard part-time over at Wayne Enterprises but I need something full-time."

Jim looked over at me and I hid my smirk well as I asked, "Night shift?"

He nodded. "I'm looking to move into a bigger apartment so my girls can visit," he paused then explained, "I'm divorced, my wife has the girls until I have more suitable living arrangements, then we'll have shared custody."

"Ah," Jim said as he scrawled a note on his legal pad. "You listed here in your résumé that you were involved in a private investigation firm back in New York."

Will nodded, "One of the other guys from Homicide started it, Blue Eye Investigations. He had a few of us working part-time for him. It was mostly looking for missing persons, stakeout work for suspected adultery cases, that sort of thing. It was good busy work when cold cases came up in the department."

Fighting the image of a lifeless girl laying in a rainy alleyway, I asked, "And you retired three years ago from the NYPD?"

"Correct. I had been planning on it for a while but a bad case pushed me into finally deciding to step down. Evidence was contaminated intentionally courtesy of a few crooked cops who had been paid off by the suspect's father. After that, I couldn't work alongside someone who would rather get a wad of cash instead of putting a child murderer behind bars… Sorry, didn't mean to rant."

"Quite all right," I shrugged, "Cop chat is practically a way of life in this office."

"I'd imagine," Will smirked, "I was impressed to find out this firm was run by the former commissioner as well as a decorated officer such as yourself."

I smirked and replied, "Well we had to keep busy or prepare ourselves for a cell in Arkham."

Moving on, Jim began asking about the various seminars Will had listed on his résumé. "I see here you've attended Home and Business Surveillance work shops, can you tell us a bit more about what you learned there?"

"Quite a bit actually. It was a series of three seminars actually, the first on designing layouts for surveillance systems, then on selecting the appropriate equipment with a follow-up course on installing systems, with a great deal of focus on hidden cameras and laser sensors."

I did my best to hide my excitement as out of the fourteen candidates we had seen, he was the first that had any if not all of our qualifications. A great improvement from the first applicant we had seen who had turned out to be an ex-con who had misread the classified ad thinking we were looking for an enforcer.

The rest of the interview did nothing but impress us further on how wonderful William Cutting was, even sans plaid pants. Where the time had dragged with the others, it flew by while learning the history of the man sitting before us and I was surprised to see that my watch read that it was half past noon.

I pointed it out to Jim and he cleared his throat, "Well, Will, you have a very impressive collection of experience and skills here… You're actually one of the most qualified applicants we've looked at."

"Thank you," he replied.

"We still have a number of others to interview but we will certainly contact you by the end of next week," I stood and offered him my hand.

"Of course, well, thank you for seeing me."

Jim then shook his hand, "Our pleasure, I'll see you out."

I waited until I was alone before I crumpled up the applications of the remaining individuals to be interviewed that day and tossed them into the trash can across the room. Cassandra walked in just in time to see the giant wad of paper land in the trash can, "Three points."

"Damn straight, and it didn't hit the rim."

"Barbara called, said she was free for lunch."

I paused before asking, "Did you take a message? Filled out that little pink sheet? Actual secretary work?"

She glared at me before turning on her heel and leaving. I called for her to come back and when she faced me she asked, "What?"

"Could you make reservations at the Four Seasons for four?"

She walked over and picked up both of my hands, "Your fingers broken?"

"No, but it's your jo-OW!" I yelped when she pulled my pinkie finger backwards, "All right, all right, I'll make the reservations, no need to pull out the terrorist lie detector every time you want to make a point…"

As she left the room, I added, "And you don't need to break and/or bruise any part of my body every time you want to make a point."

If she had heard me, she showed no sign of it.

Fearfully, I knew if she had wanted to, Cass certainly would hurt something more valuable than my pinkie.

^V^

I had been sitting in the small examination room, petting Isis and doing my best to keep her relaxed as we waited for the veterinarian. She, as with Taffy, had only been to the animal hospital for vaccinations and check-ups, both of which were annual events that were loathed.

Just as Isis began to purr, the door opened and she let out a low growl.

Dr. Kathy Allen's trim, white coat clad form appeared with a younger woman at her side. I read the tag on her medical scrub's collar: Colleen, LVT. Ah, the accompanying veterinarian technician that looked fresh from the graduating class of Hudson University.

"Good morning, Selina," Dr. Allen offered her hand.

I shook it briefly before resuming the taming of Isis' anxiety.

"Any change since we last spoke?" she asked as she stepped up to the examination table. She scratched Isis behind the ear before going about the physical exam of checking her eyes, ears and vitals.

"A bit more lethargic. And she vomited twice last night."

"Still off feed?"

I nodded, "I even tried heating it up but she just didn't seem interested."

"Probably a stomach bug," Dr. Allen commented as she palpated my cat's abdomen, "There's some fluid collection here… She's been drinking all right?"

"From what I've seen."

"Well, we'll pull some blood; see if we can figure out the root of all of this… It'll be a few hours to get the results, so if you want, we can keep her for the morning, push some fluids IV and keep an eye on her."

Subconsciously I began chewing on my lower lip and stopped in order to say, "Okay. I have to meet my family for brunch at ten…"

"Perfect. At the earliest, we could get the results back by one this afternoon. We're not too busy today so I can put a rush on it."

"Thank you, Dr. Allen… I really appreciate this."

"No problem, Selina, hopefully we can get her feeling much better."

"Hopefully," I said as I picked up Isis, "Now you behave yourself, little lady." Isis pawed at my face slowly then yawned. When I handed her over to Dr. Allen, she looked back at me before letting out a quiet meow.

I left my cell phone number with the receptionist before heading out to the parking lot. Madeline's was only six blocks away and driving would put me there a little too early. And I'd be lying to myself to say I couldn't use the time to clear my head before sitting down for brunch with Bruce and the kids.

Nathan had his first doctor's appointment since his first birthday back in July. Although he was in perfect health, I couldn't help but worry. Because he had been born prematurely, his developmental milestones had been stunted. At the age when Mattie had been running around the house and rattling off her entire vocabulary, Nathan was still wary of walking on his own and often chose to point or act out what he wanted instead of saying it. Bruce did his best to reassure me, verbally and by containing his own concerns.

We had fought the other night over practically nothing and he was quick to recognize that it was only my anxiety surfacing. Anxiety over Nathan, over Isis, over everything. I had been in the midst of a rant, something along the lines of how I felt as if my life was falling apart when he suddenly crossed the room, grabbed on to me and picked me up off of the ground. When I had asked him what he was doing, he stared directly into my eyes and said, "Picking up the pieces."

He could be such a sap when he wanted to.

I arrived at the bakery and glanced quickly into the parking lot and smiled to recognize one of the many vehicles to be from our garage. I stepped into the small waiting area and before the hostess could ask me for my name, I spotted Bruce setting Nathan into a high chair at on of the rear tables. After I pointed them out as my party, she smiled and said, "Enjoy your meal."

Nathan was actually the first to spot me and began bouncing in Bruce's arms, making the process of sitting him down even more difficult. When he began to call out "Mama, mama!" Bruce turned; all too happy too see that I had made it in time for brunch.

"Here, maybe you can get him to sit," Bruce handed him off to me.

I kissed my son's face and grinned at him, "All right, kiddo, time to settle down."

Brunch was apparently exactly what I needed. As we waited for our food, I alternated sipping a passion fruit juice and holding Bruce's hand as it rested on the table. Mattie regaled us with the plans for the stable's Halloween party and how she had helped make up games for everyone to play.

"I can't wait for the doughnut eating contest. You ride your horse up to the marker and you and your horse are given a doughnut and you each have to eat one before you can ride back to tag the next person on your team."

Bruce asked, "Will the horses eat the doughnuts?"

She shrugged, "I don't know about the others but Rusty will. I've been practicing."

Not a moment later, our waiter arrived with a large tray filled with pastries, eggs, toast and fruit. Once set on the table, I asked Mattie if she wanted me to cut her French toast up but she said, "No, that's okay, I can do it."

With Bruce preparing Nathan's plate of fruit and pancakes, I took one of the croissants from his plate and took a bite before he caught on. He glanced at me over his shoulder before setting Nathan's plate before him.

"What?" I asked.

Bruce took the remaining croissant and carefully cut it horizontally before spreading on a layer raspberry jam. "That was mine."

"You didn't need two," I smiled before reaching over and patting his firm stomach. It had been a one-way joke that had been developing since he had stepped down from the mantle, he had marginally reduced his insane exercise regimen. It had started when I had joked how only doing five-hundred pushups was going to completely kill his physique.

He had gone straight to the Manor's gym and locked himself in.

He still was unbelievably fit, running five miles almost everyday and still bench pressing twice my body weight with ease, but he didn't spend hours testing his bodily constraints. Fortunately, it allowed him more time for different forms of physical activity, namely playing soccer with Mattie in the backyard and rolling on the floor with Nathan.

And with me, on occasion.

As brunch came to a close, I sighed to see it was only quarter after eleven. Waiting around the veterinary hospital seemed pointless. Bruce must have caught the look on my face for he spoke, "I have an idea… Why don't you come home, we'll go to the Halloween party and then when they call from the clinic I'll go down with you. Alfred should be home by then, he can keep an eye on the kids," he nodded towards Mattie was showing her little brother what a mess he had made.

I nodded, "I walked here, so we'd need to go get the car first."

Bruce leaned forward and kissed my cheek, whispering before sitting back, "She'll be fine."

I kissed him quickly before standing, "Mattie you want to help me wash him up in the ladies' room?"

"Sure," Mattie set her napkin on the table and looked up at Bruce, "You can't come, Dad."

He shook his head, "I figured as much, I'll meet you outside."

We stepped out the front door five minutes later to see Bruce had pulled the car around. When he spotted us, he stepped out of the driver's seat and offered to put Nathan in his car seat. I handed my son off and smirked, "Oh, now that he's clean you want him."

Bruce's brow rose slightly, "Well, I wasn't the one who ordered him pancakes with strawberry sauce…"

After we pulled into the clinic's parking lot, I got out and checked in at the receptionist's desk quick. With no news, I returned to the parking lot surprised to see Bruce was still there. I shook my head at him as I made my way to the car I had driven down earlier. We rarely were in separate vehicles at the same time, and far too often we found ourselves racing each other to get home. But with the kids in tow I knew it was going to be an even fifty-five miles per an hour all the way back.

When we pulled up in front of Wayne Manor ten minutes later, Mattie was the first to jump out of Bruce's car. I pulled into the garage behind them and she met me at my driver side door just as I opened it, "Are you really coming to the party?"

I nodded as I killed the ignition and stepped out of the car. "But if the vet calls I might have to leave early."

She pouted for a moment before looking up at me, "That's okay, at least you'll get to see Rusty the Pirate Pony."

I leaned forwards and kissed her cheek before growling, "Argh!"

^V^

After having spent the majority of the day at the free clinic aiding in a community blood drive, I began looking forward to a quiet evening. To my knowledge, the only planned activity for the remainder of the afternoon was Miss Mattie's equestrian Halloween party. With the actual date of Halloween being a mere week away, the young girl was equally excited to attend a costume party of one of her classmates.

Master Bruce had been invited to the masquerade ball hosted annually at the Carter Hotel, just as he had for the last two decades. With the response date drawing close, I had asked Ms. Selina if he had decided as to whether or not he would make an appearance. She had skimmed the invitation before smiling, "I suppose we should decide for him, Alfred… Go ahead and RSVP… And what do you think about Phantom of the Opera for costumes?"

I had paused before replying, "You would be a stunning Christine… and I believe Master Bruce already has a fedora."

It was only the night before that Master Bruce discovered he was attending the masquerade ball and it was rather difficult to discern whether he was truly upset or not. I had checked in for the final time that night and had found Ms. Selina pulling out evening gowns from the closet. Master Bruce had been sitting on the bed, a troubled look on his face as he read.

Before I could utter a word, Ms. Selina noticed my presence, "What do you think, Alfred? White and frilly or the dark look?" she asked as she held up two dresses, one white with intricate violet embroidery, the other black with red shimmering silk accents, yet both were stunning.

I was about to answer when Master Bruce rose, discarding the real estate journal he had been pretending to read, "Was this your idea?"

I shook my head, "Far be it for me to take credit for your wife's creativity, sir."

His cool glaze fell on Ms. Selina, but it had no ill effect on her as she held the black dress up to her bath robe clad form, "You're right, honey, the 'Past the Point of No Return' look is much more fitting."

He had promptly excused himself to shower, grumbling incoherently to himself.

After she had set the dresses on the bed, she looked over at me, "I made him try out the mask I bought him and the fedora and I said he was almost as good looking as Gary Mauer."

"A portrayer of the Phantom, I presume?"

She nodded, "Oh well, maybe I'll find a Raoul if Bruce won't go…"

Apparently he had overheard her sly comment and had called out from the bathroom, "He better keep his hand at the level of his eyes!"

Pulling up the drive that afternoon, I was surprised to see that one of Master Bruce's sedans had recently parked just in front of the garage. I drove past in order to park inside, glancing over briefly to see the entire family preparing to exit the vehicle. I smiled at Master Bruce and he offered a curt nod before going about retrieving his slumbering son. Miss Mattie jumped out of the backseat and shouted with delight, "Alfred, Rusty won the Most Swashbuckling Costume!"

…_How can you pass up Zorro?_

…_I'm not the swashbuckling type, young sir._

I physically shook my head to clear the sporadic mental image of Master Bruce's eight year old from grinning up at me on that dreadful night. Instead of allowing a frown form on my lips, I smiled and congratulated her, "A worthy award for the effort you and your mother put into his guise."

Miss Mattie smirked, "I know! A lot of the others just put different colored blankets on their horses, but Rusty was the only one wearing a real costume."

As Ms. Selina stepped out of the car, she jumped slightly and reached for her purse, quickly retrieving her cell phone. While she answered, I lead Miss Mattie in through the service entrance, "Such a grand occasion requires a celebratory treat."

"I agree," the child grinned up at me before glancing back at her father, "Don't you think so, Dad?"

Master Bruce nodded, "After dinner, though."

Once inside, Ms. Selina continued her animated conversation as she made her way into the hall and towards the study. Master Bruce excused himself so that he could put young Master Nathan to bed so that he could sleep until dinner. Thus leaving Miss Mattie and myself in the kitchen, unattended.

Earlier, before I had left to spend the day in the less enjoyable part of Gotham City, I had made several dozens of blueberry muffins, a majority of which I had taken with me. Donating blood was a service I felt best rewarded with something more palatable than stale vanilla wafer cookies. However, I had saved a baker's dozen for the Manor, knowing all too well that it was a favorite of Ms. Selina's. And her daughter's.

Although I offered to heat them in the oven, Miss Mattie shook her head as she washed her hands. When she was seated on a stool at the island counter, she spoke, "Can I have some milk, please?"

"But of course, miss."

I placed a muffin onto a small serving plate and placed it before her. She thanked me and proceeded to began picking the blueberries from the top before popping them in her mouth. Once I set the glass of milk on the counter, she smiled at me, finished chewing then asked, "So what kind of treat should we have?"

"Whatever your heart's desire, young lady."

Her smile grew before she began pondering silently. "Do we have any bananas?"

"For banana split sundaes, of course."

She snickered, "Alfred, you can always read my mind when it comes to food."

I smiled and added, "Especially desserts, Miss Mattie."

As she ate, I began a mental outline of that evening's dinner as I put away clean dishes. Just as she brought over her used dishes, the telephone rang. I reached it just in time to hear the second ring cut abruptly. My mind piqued with curiosity as to whether the lord or lady of the manor had answered but was soon sated when Ms. Selina passed through the kitchen door.

She seemed in much lighter spirits than she had been over the last few weeks and was quick to explain, "That was the assistant director at the Preserve. Apparently there is a pair of black leopards that are in need of a new home…"

"They can sleep in my bed," Miss Mattie giggled.

"Oh you're funny. I had Debra give the okay on shipping them up from Tennessee, and they should be here by Tuesday night."

"Can I help move them in?"

Ms. Selina sat on the stool her daughter had been resting on a moment earlier, "You can come watch. After all, someone has to take the pictures." The child did a small victory dance and I had to return my gaze to the sink to keep myself from chuckling.

"That is splendid news, Ms. Selina."

"That's not even the best part," she said, "The female is expecting two cubs."

Miss Mattie gasped, "Cubs, as in kittens?"

"Yes, cubs as in kittens. She's due to have them the week before Thanksgiving."

I completed my dutiful task as Miss Mattie began listing off names for the unborn cubs. Ms. Selina suggested she write them down in the study so that she wouldn't forget them. I poured a cup of coffee for her and she accepted it, "You read my mind, Alfred."

I thought to myself how I had been doing that quite a bit lately.

She then asked how the blood drive had fared. When I began to answer, Master Bruce's form appeared at the open doorway. He detected our high spirits and asked, "What's going on?"

Ms. Selina looked over her shoulder at him, grinned, "I have the best news."

He paused before replying, "I wish I could say the same…"

^V^

Feline Infectious Peritonitis.

Isis had been infected for at least a month without our knowing.

We had caged Taffy in order to take her down to the veterinary hospital so that she could be tested for the soil dwelling bacteria. Although they were primarily indoor cats, Dr. Allen had said it may have been tracked into the house thus allowing older cat's exposure.

Leaving Alfred to watch over Mattie and Nathan, I drove Selina back into Bristol, alternating my eyes from her worried face and the paved road ahead of me. It wasn't long before she had reached over and latched her hand onto mine as it rested on the stick shift.

While Selina had been downstairs talking on her cell, I had just caught the phone in our bedroom in hopes of not waking Nathan. It had been the doctor herself, her voice tired but professional. A heavy flow of emergency patients had prevented her from calling earlier in the day and she apologized profusely. When I asked what the results had been she paused before explaining what she had found with minimal details. She then asked that Selina come in to speak with her, causing something to twist in my gut.

It only twisted harder when I had walked into the kitchen to see Selina grinning and chatting with Alfred.

Upon arriving at the animal hospital, I was surprised to see how empty the parking lot was. After glancing at my watch, I was equally surprised to see that it was nearly five-thirty. I was about to step out of the car, but paused when Selina didn't let go of my hand.

"Selina… We're---."

"I just need a second."

I leaned in and kissed her cheek softly, "I understand."

Three minutes of silence and she let go and looked herself over in the visor mirror quickly before opening the door. I grabbed the cat carrier out of the back seat and followed her into the waiting room. There was no receptionist, no waiting patients nor owners. I may not have been a practicing detective, but it didn't take much to realize we had been called down after closing.

Dr. Allen was quick to meet us out front and had her assistant take Taffy. "Draw two sets of blood, have Amber help you, sometimes she's a bit fussy." Once the technician and carrier disappeared down a corridor, Dr. Allen looked at both of us with a weak smile before saying, "We'll keep Taffy overnight just to be on the safe side… If you'll follow me."

The ensuing hour was a blur. I recalled sitting next to Selina in the exam room, watching as she held a slumbering black form in her arms. Then later, rubbing her shoulders as she wrapped Isis up in the blanket that Mattie had put in the carrier for her earlier that morning.

Nothing truly came into focus until we returned home.

We sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. I finally felt her eyes on me and I offered a weak smile, before getting out of the car. After I opened her door, Selina stood slowly, her arms carefully embracing the blanket wrapped form. Passing through the service entrance from the garage, we were met with savory aromas that did nothing for our non-existent appetites.

Soft sounds in the dining room suggested that Alfred was entertaining Mattie and Nathan. Making our way into the corridor, I placed my palm on Selina's lower back and followed her into the den.

Once she was seated on the couch, I sat as well and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she leaned against me. After a moment of silence she whispered something and I asked her to repeat it. Selina glanced up at me briefly before I heard her soft voice, "This is the same couch we were sitting on when you gave her to me. Remember?"

…_Do you like her?_

…_I love her, she's adorable, Bruce._

I nodded and kissed the top of Selina's head before allowing myself to think back to that Christmas morning. It had been seven months after I had been shot and despite my physical recovery, I had yet to regain my memory. Selina, Dick, Alfred, Cassandra, Jim and Barbara had been gathered around the tree and I had never felt happier.

That was until Mattie had been born two weeks later.

Oh, God, Mattie.

When Terry's mother had been killed, it had been fairly difficult to sit her down in order to explain things. I had to fight back memories of nervous police officers trying to explain to me that my parents were dead, despite the fact that I had seen it all and bore their blood on my clothes. Mattie had a general understanding of death, mostly with the cats hunting for mice outside in the summer. She had cried, having grown close to the woman I could barely remember and subsequently suffered nightmares for nearly a month of Selina and me dying, thus leaving her without parents.

Nightmares I knew all too well.

Alfred appeared at the doorway, his face somber and his voice quiet, "Master Bruce?"

I wondered why he was whispering for only a moment as I heard a soft snore escape Selina's lips. After standing carefully, I left her leaning against the back of the couch

before approaching Alfred.

"Sir, Miss Mattie wishes to see you."

"Where is she?"

"Arranging ingredients for ice cream sundaes in the dining room."

I watched as his gaze redirected to Selina momentarily. I answered his unasked question, "We had to euthanize Isis. The infection had progressed too far for any hopeful recovery."

He sighed quietly, "My condolences, sir…"

Before he could continue, I spoke, "Please, stay with her. If she wakes, tell her I went to talk to Mattie."

"Very well, sir."

An hour later, the entire family stood around a small dark patch of freshly churned dirt beneath the large oak in the back yard where Selina and I read to Mattie in the summer. And where Isis had often perched in the lower branches, eyeing young birds and squirrels that were just out of reach.

Having never had a pet, let alone one that had died, I was unsure of the procedure of putting it to rest. Dick had a goldfish when he was younger but when he had forgotten to feed it for a week, he had flushed it and joked, "I better not have kids when I grow up."

Selina leaned against me and instinctively, I wrapped my arm around her, drawing her even closer. We watched on as Mattie knelt and placed one of the lilacs from the dining room centerpiece onto the small mound, "I know how you liked to eat the petals when you got on the dinner table. So I thought you might want one more."

She stood and brushed off her knees before wiping away at the tears that were brimming in her eyes. I reached forward with my free hand and rubbed her shoulder. Mattie looked back, her lips in a trembling smile, "I'm okay, Dad."

With the wind picking up, Alfred offered to take Mattie and Nathan inside for some hot chocolate. I said that we would be in shortly and watched as they walked into the house through the rear French doors. My gaze then shifted as Selina moved in my hold, turning to embrace me.

"Let's go inside, it's freezing out here."

I kept my arm around her as we returned to the house. As we neared the staircase, she asked, "Can you tuck them in?"

"Of course. I'll be up in a while."

She blinked a few times in rapid succession before replying, "Thank you, Bruce."

I found everyone in the den, Mattie was picking a cookie off of a small platter and Alfred watched on as Nathan stood at the coffee table, squishing marshmallows on his plate. Despite being focused on destroying the sweet treats, my son was the first to see me and called out, "Dahie!"

I sat down on the couch and picked him up, kissing his soft cheek before smiling at him, "You are making a mess, young man."

He giggled before saying, "Messie."

"Yes, you are messy." I sat him down on my lap after reaching for a handful of marshmallows. I gave him one and he held it up before pressing it against my lips. I ate it and thanked him.

After Mattie found the perfect chocolate chip cookie, she put it on her plate and proceeded to break it in half. As she dunked one of the halves into her cocoa, she asked, "Where's Mom?"

"She went upstairs to lie down."

"Is she okay?"

I nodded, "She will be. She's jus… very sad. Isis was very important to her."

Mattie ate the sodden cookie before responding, "Yeah… You know what I was thinking, Dad?"

Nathan fed me another marshmallow and I swallowed before asking, "What's that, kitten?"

"The circle of life. We talked about it in science class… Some things have to die so that others can be born. Maybe Isis died so that the leopard cubs could be born."

I reached over and touched her arm gently, "Maybe."

While I changed Nathan and put him in his crib in the nursery, Mattie changed and brushed her teeth. When I arrived at her bedroom door, she was already in bed reading. When I sat on the edge of her bed she leaned forward and kissed me, "I can read by myself tonight, Dad."

"Are you sure?"

She shrugged, "Yeah, I 'm sure."

I kissed her back and said, "All right, lights out by nine-thirty."

"Okay, Dad."

I was surprised to find that the overhead lights were on in the master bedroom. Selina was under the covers, facing towards the bay window. I figured she had fallen asleep, but was proven wrong when she asked, "Can you hit the lights?"

I did as asked without a word, washed up quickly then undressed before slipping under the down comforter. She instantly turned to face me, her eyes glittering in the near complete darkness. I went to move closer to her but she words interrupted my actions, "I never knew what happened to the first Isis… She went out to prowl one night and never came home. I always hoped that somehow she would come back to me, in one form or another. And when you gave me that kitten, I thought it was meant to be, that Isis came back to start life anew.

"But I've been thinking… When… When I first saw you after you were shot… The first thing you remembered about me was Isis. Later that night, I had mused that since Isis was the goddess of magic… I thought it was magic how that she was what you remembered first… But now, I think… that she didn't come back to me in that kitten…"

Before she could finish, Selina burst into tears and promptly buried her face into my chest. I finally moved closer, leaving no space between us. I alternated between rubbing her back and kissing her face, my lips finding salty tears.

As her sobs subsided, she looked up at me, "She came back to me through you."

^V^


	11. What Lies Ahead: XI

Title: What Lies Ahead: XI

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: Tis the season.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note:

^V^

"Dick, who did you buy a cook book for?"

With it being the night before Christmas Eve, I had been pulling double duty monitoring as Oracle as well as wrapping gifts. Dick and I had been shopping on and off for the last month but I was certain something was missing and it was driving me to the verge of insanity. Despite having left for patrols earlier than usual, I knew better than to count on Dick making it back before four in the morning, especially with greedy individuals out getting gifts for themselves.

Thus a wrapping party for one.

Dick took a while to reply, no doubt battling to tie up the eighteen year old mugger with his hands nearly numb from the eighteen degree temperature.

"Selina, she said she wanted to start cooking more to help Alfred out."

I glanced at the cover carefully before asking, "Did you even look at what kind of cook book it was?"

"Of course I did, it has over a hundred delicious meals planned out, even appetizers, desserts and," he paused and I herd the faint report of a line gun being fired paired with distant sirens, "Even cocktails."

"And that is was all designed around the Weight Watchers program?"

There was a long silent minute before he asked, "You're kidding, right?"

"Dick, it says it on the cover in big green letters!"

"She's going to claw my eyes out… Think I can return it and get a different one tomorrow?"

I laughed out loud before answering him, partly because of his predicament but mostly because despite how brilliant he was, he could still be quite the idiot. "Sure but you're going by yourself, shopping on Christmas Eve is suicidal."

"Babs, you have to go with me, what if I get a cookbook for the aging woman?"

When I began to laugh again a tone sounded, indicating that my attention was being summoned from another masked man, "Fine, I'll go with you but you're buying me lunch. And a new outfit for Christmas dinner."

"Anything for you, love."

I cut the connection and switched over to the first line, "Batman's Office, how can I help you?"

His reply came quick despite my attempt at cracking his shell, "I'm meeting with the commissioner in an hour, where's Nightwing?"

"Bowery. Just nabbed a mugger. Why?"

He paused then before replying, "I want him there with me."

"May I ask why all of the sudden you need backup to meet with Crazy Kelsey?"

"Because she asked to meet me."

I was taken aback by this. She had been acting as the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department for well over a year but she had only encountered a masked vigilante a handful of times. At first, she had been gung-ho to annihilate masked faces from "her" city. My father had been one of the officials that had been asked to interview candidates and he had promised us that she was right for the job despite her views on certain matters. I was still not entirely willing to trust her, which was no doubt only a fraction of what Batman felt towards her.

"When was this?" I asked.

"The homicide the other night. I was observing the crime scene from a fire escape and she caught a glimpse of me, asked to talk."

"Did she say what it was about?"

"No, but she seemed genuinely civil." When I began to ask more about what she had told him, he continued, "Have him meet me on the rooftop at ten of midnight."

Then he cut the connection.

I buzzed in on Nightwing and was surprised to find him laughing. I asked, "Everything okay?"

He caught his breath and replied, "Oh sure. I just found a healthy dose of the holiday spirit is all."

"How's that?"

"I was pursuing a speeding car that just left the rear of an electronic store, obviously toting some serious goodies in the back of the van. I followed them five blocks on foot, nearly falling off of two buildings trying to keep up."

"What's so jolly about that?" I asked,

"Turns out they were picking up gifts to drop off at an orphanage… I was after Ebenezer Scrooge but it was Kermit the Frog the entire time."

"You mean Bob Crachit?"

"Same thing. Give me a break, I've watched A Muppet Christmas Carol four times this week with Mattie and Nathan."

"And how many times did they want to watch it?"

"… Once," he sighed in defeat. I told him about meeting the commissioner and he replied, "It'll be close, my cycle is going to take forever to warm up. Maybe I can get a cab."

"Just show them one of those shapely calves of yours; you might even get a half-priced fare."

He signed off snickering, "Shapely calves."

I set the dreaded cook book aside and picked up the list I had written out of everyone I needed gifts for. Every single one was checked off and yet I still couldn't shake the feeling that I had left someone out.

I leaned back in my chair and sighed, my eyes falling on a silver framed picture of my Dad holding Frank at a benefit walk he ha done at Thanksgiving. The Turkey Trot, I recalled. Bruce, Dick and Tim had run it but Selina, Mattie, Nathan, and my father had taken the 5K at a walk.

It was as I looked into a pair of gentle, hazel eyes I realized my error.

And if I hadn't gotten a gift for the little hairball my father would never let me hear the end of it.

^V^

I landed on the rooftop of Gotham City Police Headquarters at seven of midnight and nearly slipped on a patch of ice before coming face-to-face with Batman.

"You're late."

"You're… early?"

He looked away for a moment before saying, "I want you to stay up here."

"What? It's freezing out here. I was kind of hoping I could sneak into the cafeteria and score some free hot cocoa."

"If she's going to try something, I'd much rather have you out here," he spoke evenly.

"If she was going to try something, I'm sure she would have done it by now," I spoke sarcastically.

He scowled for a moment then his features softened with reconsideration, "Fine. But don't open your mouth."

"What do you mean? I'm great at playing the brooding presence in the corner."

"Of course, nothing says 'Fear this' like blue lightning bolts."

Before I could allow shock to let my jaw drop, I caught the half-smirk that Tim had nearly perfected. With just as solemn of a face, I responded, "Just like nothing says 'Beware the Dark Knight' like a snappy yeller belt."

His smirk grew momentarily before he turned back to business, "Let's go."

We crept down the face of the building, using nearly memorized cracks in the exterior as foot holds and intricate moldings for handgrips. He checked her window first and motioned to wait for a second. He then nodded and proceeded to pick the lock of her window before stepping into the room.

She had completely redone it with brand new maple office furniture and a fresh coat of a warm beige paint. With her coffee mug missing from her desk, I took a chance to peer over the case files she had strewn about. Most seemed to be related to internal affairs investigations, not surprising considering Gotham still had one of the most crooked police forces on the eastern seaboard.

With a pair of footsteps approaching in the hall, I stepped back towards a filing cabinet and took refuge while Batman moved behind the opened office door. Kelsey entered first, steaming mug in tow with another gentleman behind her who left the door as it was.

He was clean shaven with dark brown curls trimmed close to his scalp. He couldn't have been much older than me but that could have been from a life of facials and tanning that kept off the years. His tailored suit and manicured nails suggested comfortable living but his shoes hadn't seen a polishing in some time. Too busy or too oblivious, either way it was no way to treat a good pair of Italian dress shoes.

"Well, where is he?" he asked, his voice oddly reminded me of Bruce Willis.

"Who knows if he'll even show up? It's been difficult trying to cooperate with him."

The man sat in one of the stuffed leather chairs, "I could understand. Must be hard trying to start that kind of a partnership from the beginning."

Kelsey corrected him, "We don't have a partnership, more like an understanding. He stays out of my way, I stay out of his."

"Well put, commissioner," Batman spoke quietly as he stepped forward, shutting the door. Both jumped to see him appear, only to do the same when I moved into eyesight as well. The gentleman stood and did his best to regain a sense of composure but with his eyes jumping from one masked face to another it was a futile effort.

"How did you get…?" Kelsey began before shaking her head, "Never mind. I'm actually… I'm glad you decided to come."

Instead of replying verbally, Batman drew a slow breath before locking eyes with our guest.

An Adam's apple bobbed twice before a pair of uneasy eyes looked to Kelsey. She set her coffee mug down and it was then that I realized she hadn't spilt a drop of it. Well done, I thought, considering I had dropped a number of glasses when Bruce had snuck up on me when I was younger.

Being the gracious hostess that she feigned to be, the commissioner cleared her throat, "As you may or may not know, the district attorney is retiring at the end of this month and his replacement has been has been chosen," her eyes looked to the only man not wearing tights in the room, "Timothy Bryce."

We watched silently as he shifted to a more meaningful stance, trying to engage both of us one at a time with a slight nod. I wasn't sure about Batman but I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smirking when Bryce's arm shifted subconsciously to offer a handshake.

Kelsey continued, "Over the last six months I have been doing my best to try and figure out a way for this… situation for a lack of a better term, to be less awkward. I've recently sought advice from Jim Gordon, whom I had expected to laugh in my face but he had the decency not to."

Silence aside from the hum of her computer.

And then the new DA decided to break it.

"I know Erin isn't Jim Gordon and I am no Harvey Dent but…" his eyes should have been wary, glancing back and force at our stoic faces as they had when we first appeared, but I was surprised as he boldly locked his gaze with Batman, "I want to be able to think you could look past that for the sake of this city."

The deep voice that had caused countless perps to piss themselves replied, "You are lecturing the wrong person, Mr. Bryce." He narrowed his eyes on Kelsey and she shifted her weight and crossed her arms over her chest just as Bryce turned to face her.

"I am directing it to all of you," he added, still looking at Kelsey. When he faced us again, he continued, "Bringing down Hades was a monumental effort on your part, one that unfortunately should have involved the police more than it did… That can't be changed but in the future---."

"In the future perhaps the police should do actual police work," Batman growled.

Kelsey stepped around her desk, "I asked you here to talk, not to be insulted."

"Asking me here was an insult. You claim not to be Gordon and Dent and yet you expect an instant alliance just because you said 'please'."

I couldn't help but let my eyes widen in shock. He had surely taken the brunt of Kelsey's objection during his time in the cowl… but to resort to this? Speaking my mind would be a death sentence but holding back would surely be a death sentence for any hopeful relationship with the GCPD.

And as much as we could do on our own, it never hurt to have a little help on the inside.

The change in my expression must have been noticeable as I found Bryce and Kelsey staring at me. Batman managed to direct the attention back to him with, "I've been willing to cooperate since the beginning, Kelsey."

"Cooperate? Hiding evidence, breaking into crime scenes, attacking major drug operations with a handful of people?"

"It's the way it's always been," he countered.

Before their feud heated any further, Bryce interrupted, "And I don't expect it to change, nor does the commissioner," he didn't even glance over his shoulder to confirm it but instead kept his eyes on Batman. I knew about four people who could handle the Bat-glare and I felt comfortable adding another to the list.

"What is it that you do expect?" Batman asked; his voice still in a deep growl.

"Trying the cases that involve vigilantes is a nightmare. Since Gordon stepped down it's only gotten worse. I know you were more comfortable submitting evidence under his supervision because you trusted him."

"He earned my trust."

"How?" Kelsey's voice broke in.

"When you figure it out, you'll earn it too." He turned his back to them and without warning, leapt out of the window.

A moment later, I moved to follow him but Bryce said, "Wait… This didn't go as planned."

"Things with him generally don't," Kelsey sighed.

Bryce paused before saying, "I need you to talk to him…"

"No one can change his mind," I replied.

"He changed mine," Bryce responded before closing his eyes momentarily, "I never believed he existed until… He saved my wife and I from some punk with a switchblade four years ago. Guy came out of no where and knocked me in the back of the head, I couldn't get up for the life of me but I saw him push her against the… He dropped out of the sky and before I knew it the guy was on the ground out cold. I thought maybe he would remember but… I guess he's saved so many people over the years that they all blend together."

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be, just help us."

It took me the better part of an hour to find him perched up on the roof of St. Paul's. He gave off waves of frustration, a tell tale sign not to disturb him. Ignoring my baser instincts, I squatted beside him and opened my big, fat mouth.

After a while, he replied, "He thinks I'm Bruce. I'm not."

"No," I corrected him, "He thinks you're the Batman that saved his life. He was hoping that would sway you."

"It doesn't."

"Right."

Another long, silent minute.

"Do you think Bruce would remember him?"

I nodded.

"Do you think that Bruce would be swayed?"

I looked at him, "Are you serious? I'm not going to sit here and play 'Who's the Better Batman' with you."

"I mean it… do you think he would work with them?"

I did not hesitate, "Yes. I think he would. But not because they said 'please', only because he knows to use every available resource for the mission." He stood and I was quick to do the same, "But you're not him," I readied a line and shot it across the street, "But he taught you waste not, want not just as he taught the rest of us."

Before he could reply, I was sailing across Baker Avenue certain that I had opened my big, fat mouth and hadn't made an idiot of myself.

For a change.

^V^

I had decided to surprise Tim with breakfast from the bakery five blocks away, but when I woke a little after nine in the morning I was the only one in bed.

There was a sticky note on the nightstand that had Tim's chicken scratch on it: B to the fast at quarter to the ten at Maison to the Blanche?

"Dork," I said aloud to no one before rolling out of bed.

Having showered when I had returned from patrols a few hours earlier, I changed into a pair of cotton leggings and fresh tank top before running a brush through my pillow mused hair. I made my way down the hall to what Tim and I had made into a meditation room. Despite its effectiveness, Tim rarely meditated, claiming he didn't have time or that he had more important things to do aside from sitting around.

Reclining onto the thin pad on the floor, I exhaled slowly, thinking what he was missing out on.

I had arrived back at the townhouse shortly after he had around four in the morning.

Where I had showered and worked on making the leftovers from dinner disappear, he had sat at the counter and looked out the window watching as the snow began to fall. When I offered to heat up some chicken parm for him he declined and said he was going to bed.

After he had left, I told the empty kitchen, "Fine. More for me."

When I made my way upstairs, he had already showered and gotten into bed facing the night stand on his side. I didn't bother being quiet as I went about showering because even if he was asleep, it would take a miracle to wake him. I had learned fairly quickly to tell when he was pretending to sleep, the tell-tale sign being his eyebrows. He had perfected the deep breathing and the relaxed look on his face with exception to calming his brow.

That night, he was sleeping like a baby.

At exactly half past nine, I stood, feeling completely refreshed despite the long, cold night. We rarely worked together on patrols, each of us taking a quadrant to oversee. And with Nightwing's increasing trips to Bludhaven it was making the nights much longer and much more active.

Just the way I liked it.

When I returned to the bedroom, I quickly picked out a casual outfit of faded jeans and a

navy blue sweater to throw over a slate blue turtleneck. In light of the chilly temperatures, I donned a thigh length wool coat and wrapped a blue striped scarf around my neck. Barbara had been gradually picking away at my lack of fashion sense and when I glanced at the full length mirror on my way out of the room, I thought I should congratulate her.

Even with the French bakery being one block further than the one I had planned on going to, I decided to walk. Three inches of snow had collected in the early morning hours but with Bryanttown being one of the nicer areas, the sidewalks had been cleared long before I woke that morning. About a third of the way there, my cell phone played the beginning bars of Rome's theme song and I answered quickly, "Yes?"

"Hey, you get my note?" Tim replied with the clatter of silverware and morning gossip in the background.

"On my way."

"Good, Dick and Barbara are here too. Better hurry before he eats all of the Chocolate Savoyard."

When I walked in through the glass doors of La Maison Blanche, I found them in a rear table, each huddled over cups of coffee. Barbara spotted me first and offered a slight wave as I approached them. I sat beside Tim after removing my coat and scarf, "Brr."

"Well, people wanted a white Christmas, now they have one," Dick muttered before adding a packet of sugar to his mug, and from the pile of torn papers beside him I could tell it was at least the tenth one.

Barbara glared at him, "They meaning me?"

He shrugged and stirred, "The general public."

A slender, soft-spoken waitress I had never seen before arrived and took our orders. On my way in I had seen that only one of my favorite pastries remained and I was quick to order it, along with water and a broccoli quiche.

Dick gasped audibly and struggled to order an omelet du fromage and a Bavarian Parfait.

While we waited, Barbara asked, "So since Dick is a few peanuts short of a big top, we have to go do some last minute shopping. Either of you care to join?"

Tim sat back, "Dick, we went together, what did you forget?"

He sighed and reached for another sugar packet but Barbara pinched his arm, "Yes, dear what did you forget?"

"Nothing… I just want to get Selina something else is all."

"You don't think she'll like those earrings?" Tim asked.

Dick stared at a spot on the table and replied, "No, it's the cookbook."

Knowing all too well that Dick wasn't about to completely confess his error, Barbara stepped in to fulfill the embarrassment of her husband, "He got her a Weight Watchers cookbook."

I started to snicker but Tim let out a laugh loud enough to turn some heads in the busy establishment. When Barbara joined in, Dick's ears started to turn crimson, "It's not that funny, it's an honest mistake, really."

When we managed to stop laughing at his misfortune, I spoke, "I need to get a few things. Did you want to go too?" I asked Tim.

He nodded, "Sure, someone should make sure Dick doesn't get her the Senior Moments board game."

Our food arrived shortly after and I tormented Dick by eating my ganache filled piece of heaven with one incredibly slow bite at a time. We talked about where to go shopping, tried to pick on Dick some more and succeeded with valor. When the boys went up to pay for breakfast they found themselves at the back of a substantial line of pastry patrons.

Barbara took our time alone to ask, "Did he tell you about last night?"

I shook my head, "No, he went to bed right after we got home. Did something happen?"

She glanced around quickly and waited until the neighboring table emptied and made their way out of hearing range. "He and Dick met the new DA at the commissioner's office."

"Really?" I asked, slightly put off that I had not been included.

"I guess it lasted a whole two minutes and then Tim bailed, Dick said the DA is really eager to work with them but Tim didn't seem to want to hear it."

I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment, "Doesn't sound like him." I was about to ask her if Dick had told her anything else when they returned to retrieve us. We agreed to meet at the Mall off of the Parkway at noon and then went our separate ways.

I walked back with Tim, keeping mere inches between us the entire way. We weren't too keen on publicly displaying affection but more often than not, we would have been holding hands on the way home.

"Something wrong?" he asked, his breath puffing up in white clouds in front of his face.

I shrugged, "I don't know."

"Cass?"

"Barbara told me about last night."

"Oh… Sorry, I was going to tell you last night but meeting with her gave me a headache."

"Dick said you left him behind?"

He nodded, "I figured they would try and make peace through me with him, but he only stayed a moment after I left. We met up later, talked about what would be the best course to take."

"And?"

He sighed heavily, "I don't know."

"We should cooperate, right? If we don't... it just gives them more reason to hate us."

He replied, "I don't think they hate us, well, Kelsey strongly dislikes us but the DA, Tim Bryce, he seems to be on level. I mean he looked me in the eyes and never wavered once."

"Impressive."

We walked up the narrow path that lead from the sidewalk to the steps before the front door, "I thought so too. And if his influence can convince Kelsey to be civil then I suppose it's only fair that we return the gesture."

"Agreed," I stepped in front of him and unlocked the door, quickly removing my snow covered shoes and coat. As Tim went about doing the same, I blindsided him with a snowball I had made when I had pretended to stop and cuff my jeans so they didn't get wet.

What made it even more surprising was that he had been more than ready and dodged just in time to remain dry before throwing his own snowball.

And Alfred thought we were immature.

^V^

With Selina in the kitchen helping Alfred prepare his ritual Christmas Eve cookies and hot cocoa, I was left alone with Mattie and Nathan in the den making sure the Christmas tree was decorated to perfection for Santa Claus.

"Dad, I think the star is crooked."

I had been sitting on the floor with Nathan watching him put together a reindeer shaped puzzle Leslie had given him as an early gift. With only one leg and an ear left, he had done most of it on his own, asking "Help, Daddy," once when he was missing the piece for the nose.

Turned out I had been sitting on it.

I looked up and saw that it was indeed crooked but I wasn't about to get the ladder and protractor out for the minor discrepancy. "Looks good from here, kitten."

"But Dad…" she stood on one of the couches, "Santa is this tall, from here, it's crooked."

"Well then he'll know that it wasn't professionally decorated, that you and Nathan did it. I think he would appreciate that more."

She rolled her eyes and sighed in a way that further frightened me for her fast approaching teenaged years. With her ninth birthday coming the first week of January, I was actually surprised she still had faith in St. Nick. A few of her friends had told her he wasn't real but instead of coming and crying to Selina in I, she defended her beliefs and refused to listen to anything otherwise until there was evidence proving her wrong.

That's my girl.

In addition, she had learned from school that in other households, some opened one gift on Christmas Eve as a prelude to the morning's festivities. Selina had said it was up to me to decide if we should cater this new tradition. Saying no meant my daughter's endless pleading of which I generally succumbed to anyway. Saying yes meant going with materialized normalcy that had dominated our world.

So I told her maybe.

Just as I was about to tell Mattie not to stand on the couch, the doorbell chimed and she leapt into the air, "I'll get it!"

Nathan leapt up as well, stepping on his puzzle and dismembering the poor cardboard reindeer before running after his sister.

Instead of getting to my feet, I leaned back and let my head fall back onto couch. A trip to England two weeks ago to meet with an electronic firm that was looking to sell had left me bedridden with the flu. Mattie played the dutiful house doctor and took my temperature four times a day and made sure I was drinking plenty of fluids. I put on as much of an amiable face as possible when the kids were around but once alone, I was far too often cursing during bouts of heaving. Luckily, no one else managed to catch it and I suffered in solitude.

I listened carefully to the crackling of the fireplace, the soft Christmas music playing over the surround sound system and the muted voices in the atrium down the hall. Mattie giggled loudly and I suddenly wondered if Dick and Barbara had decided to come up early.

Alone, I let my eyes close and sighed deeply.

Before I could get too comfortable, I heard Mattie's footfalls with Nathan right behind her as they entered the room. "Dad, guess who's here?"

With my lids still shut, I replied, "I hope it's not Santa, we don't have his cookies ready."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I did come bearing gifts."

I sat upright quickly and looked over my shoulder to see Clark standing in my den, snowflakes settled into his jet black hair and his glasses slightly fogged over. In one hand he had a bag of colorfully wrapped gifts that were no doubt for the children and the other, a smaller bag with dark hued wrapping.

After getting to my feet, doing my best to hide any sign of fatigue, I walked over and took the bags from him, "Thank you, Clark," and after I set them beside the tree, I returned and shook his hand. "Can I take your coat?"

"Sure," he shrugged it off and as I took it, I spotted patches of frost on the shoulders and sleeves, no doubt having accumulated from his flight from Metropolis.

Mattie then smiled up at him, "We're making sure the tree is perfect for tomorrow."

He glanced over it, a lightness coming over his eyes that belied the fact that he could burn holes through mountains if he so wished. "It is by far the prettiest tree I've ever seen."

As Mattie was about to speak, no doubt to tell him that she thought the star was crooked, Selina entered the room with a tray of cocoa and cookies, Alfred not far behind with another tray of plates and napkins. She smiled at our guest, "Well what brings you all the way out here, Clark?"

"Are you kidding, I could smell Alfred's chocolate chip cookies in Metropolis."

As everyone opted to pick out cookies and pour cocoa, I sat on the couch and began picking up Nathan's puzzle. Just as I began to close the box, I spotted him out of the corner of my eye, holding up a cookie to my face, "Here, Daddy.

"Thank you, Nathan," I took it from him and he ran back to retrieve another.

It was amazing how much he had grown since earlier that fall, physically and mentally. After a rough start, he was quickly picking up words and mastering his basic vocabulary. His favorite word by far was Elephant but for what reason I wasn't sure. Before I had taken a bite of the cookie, Nathan had returned with one more and instead of offering it to me, he climbed up on my lap and proceeded to eat it himself.

After a brief silence, idle chit chat formed and just as Selina asked what Lois was up to for New Year's, I heard footsteps in the hall and Dick's bellowing, "Hohoho!"

Mattie looked up and laughed as he entered the room, "You're not Santa, you're too skinny."

"Oh, you got me," he replied, "And I don't think I'm quite old enough either. Or hairy."

The soft crackle of the fire and the peaceful music was suddenly lost amidst the chit chat and laughter. I stood and added more wood to the fire and just as I returned the screen, Clark came up behind me, "Bruce, I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"I'm all ears."

He glanced over his shoulder at Dick who was proving he could indeed put six marshmallows in his mouth before adding, "In private."

I nodded and walked over to Selina, "We're going to get some fresh air," I said before kissing her cheek.

"Don't slip and break your hip," she grinned before kissing me back.

A shameless joke in light of a November mishap. A bizarre ice storm had left walking on foot treacherous and I had been warning Mattie to be careful when I had dropped her off at school. When Selina and I had stopped to pick up bagels on the way home, I had slipped and fallen on a patch of ice, ridiculously close to a sign that boldly stated: **Caution - ICE!**

Not entirely willing to venture into the woods like the last one-on-one talk we had, I lead us to the rear terrace that over looked the property. I dusted off one of the cushions on the wrought iron chairs and sat while pulling my wool coat tighter around my form. Instead of doing the same, Clark approached the rail and stared into the darkness, no doubt enjoying what his eyes could see in the recesses of the woods.

"Clark, it's Christmas Eve. It's barely twenty degrees and I'm sitting on a frozen chair. Do I really have to ask you to get whatever it is you want to say out?"

He exhaled slowly, "So how is everything?"

"Fine. Good thing we did this in private," I muttered.

"No, I mean it, Bruce, how are you?"

I leaned back, still amazed that he always asked the same question, one that I never answered.

Repetitive behavior with the same outcome but expecting different results.

And I was the crazy one.

"Great. Work nine to five; spend the evenings with my children; wild sexual adventures with my wife every other night of the week."

Clark's jaw dropped slightly and I shook my head, "I was kidding Clark," when he started to smirk, "It's every night of the week."

He shook his head and did his best to keep from blushing. Still a farmboy at heart…

Desperate to change the subject, he asked, "And the others, Dick, Tim…"

I kept my eyes on him, still trying to figure out what was brewing behind those gold rimmed glasses, "Busy. The city never sleeps."

He looked towards the city skyline miles away, "Even on Christmas."

"Afraid not," I rose and moved to stand beside him.

Whether it was my physical presence being closer or the fact that he had actually decided to stop wasting my time, he said, "I wanted you to know first…"

"If you're retiring Clark, I'll be damned if I'm hosting the party."

He half-smiled before replying, "No, no… But I doubt you would throw a party for this either…"

As Clark turned to face me, I responded in the same manner, keeping my eyes cool enough to insist he continue.

And he did.

^V^

After assuring Mattie that the two plates of cookies were more than enough for Santa, I forced her upstairs while carrying a slumbering Nathan in my arms. After changing him and tucking him into bed, I went in and checked on Mattie. Taffy was sprawled on her bed, her tail twitching in the midst of feline fantasy. Mattie had changed into the candy cane striped silk pajamas, a gift I let her open while Bruce and Clark had been gone.

Since Nathan had fallen asleep on the couch and Mattie had suggested he be the first to open a gift in the morning.

"Do you want me to read 'Twas the night Before Christmas?" I asked as I sat on the edge of her bed.

While she climbed under the covers, she asked, "Where's Dad?"

"He's still talking with Uncle Clark downstairs, hon."

"Do you know how long he's going to be?"

I shrugged, "Probably a while."

She bit her lip momentarily before saying, "Okay."

I reclined beside her and we took turns reading. At a little before ten, we had finished and I kissed her brow, "Good night, Mattie, see you in the morning."

She yawned before managing a quiet, "Good night, Mom."

I shut out the lights and closed the door behind me. Before coming upstairs, I had helped Alfred pick up while Dick and Barbara had entertained Mattie and Nathan. After every dish had been washed and every leftover cookie had wrapped up, I had bid him goodnight.

When I reached the door, I had turned back once more, "Alfred?"

"Yes?" When I couldn't find the words to say, he offered a brief smile, "I'm sure everything is fine, Ms. Selina."

There was no point in going back downstairs, especially since Dick had already left for patrols and Barbara was no doubt basking in the glow of the Cave monitors. I made my way to the master bedroom, dimming the hall lights just before passing through the doors.

I stared at my reflection in the small mirror I kept on the dresser and smiled to see the gold necklace around my neck. As I touched the string of hanging diamonds, I reminded myself to inform Bruce that I had opened my gift early as well. Leaving the necklace in place, I removed my earrings before I made my way into the bathroom and began filling the tub. Once the bubbles frothed and the water was steaming, I stripped and settled into heaven. I was just about to curse myself for not turning on the music in the bedroom when I heard padded footsteps on the carpet.

Then the sound of a heavy watch clanking on the dresser surface.

"Rough day?" I called out.

When Bruce passed through the open bathroom door, he still sported the dark slacks he had worn throughout the day but had already removed his button up shirt. We had spent the day wrapping gifts in the seclusion of the library while Mattie and Nathan had been watching a movie in the den. We had intended on going out to lunch but by noon, Bruce looked exhausted, which meant he felt ten times worse. Although I had rarely shown him pity for his injuries sustained as Batman, I couldn't help but fell a little sorry for him when he fell ill as if he were a normal human being.

"They in bed?"

"Sleeping with visions of sugar-plums dancing in their heads," I grinned up at him as I lifted a soapy leg out of the water and traced a line down his leg with my big toe, "Care to join me?"

He hesitated, and his eyes glanced to the door.

Translation: I want to go hang out in the dark, cold cave all night so that I may brood and be Bat-like.

And I glared at him, a smile on my lips but my brow low and angry.

Translation: If you don't get naked and in this tub in five seconds I will become violent and Cat-like.

As he reached for his belt, I purred with victory.

He sat in the tub facing me, letting his feet rest on either side of my hips. I reached down and tickled a toe and he shook his head, "Too callused."

"I know, worth a try."

"You however," his hand disappeared under the bubbles and reached for one of my feet but I was quick to withdraw them.

"Don't you even dare or you won't get to open a Christmas gift early."

His lip twitched slightly and his left brow rose ever so slightly. "And what gift is that?"

"A surprise," I grinned at him and let my legs extend back towards him. This time, I let him take one of my feet into his broad hands and instead of tickling he began to massage the arch of the foot tenderly. "I think you should look into a career change…"

He smirked and went to work on the ball of my foot.

I watched him silently for nearly ten minutes as he finished the one foot and moved onto the next. Although Bruce genuinely could be nice on occasions, I was suspicious whether or not this was holiday cheer or a way of distracting me. Either way, my feet had never felt better.

When he set my foot down, he leaned back and stared at me.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"It's on the house," he assured me.

"Ah… do you only perform le pied masse or do you do le corps masse as well?"

His eyes widened a fraction before he replied, "Comme vous souhaitez, mon cher."

I recognized the French translation of the infamous Princess Bride quote and smiled as I moved closer to him. As you wish…

It wasn't long before we silently yet mutually agreed that the bath was over. We frantically dried off while trying to kiss each other, an act with became increasingly futile. When Bruce began pushing me into the bedroom, I said, "Wait, I need to dry my hair."

He stopped in his tracks and stared at me in complete disbelief, knowing all to well that I never joked when it came to my hair. I took his momentary laps to rat tail him with my towel before quickly dashing out of his reach. He managed to grab my arm and instead of pulling me back towards him, he tripped then caught me in the same second. When I spun around to claw at him, he laid me onto the carpet and smirked before joining me.

Fortunately, we never made it to the bed, so my soaking wet hair dampened the floor instead of Alfred's perfectly arranged pillows. Bruce growled something into the flesh of my neck that sounded like "Need to dry your hair now?" and I had to kiss the skin behind his ear to keep from laughing out loud.

Moments later, Bruce asked in between pants, "Was that my gift?"

I smiled, "No, yours is on the dresser."

He shifted his weight onto one of his forearms and reached up to fix the necklace at my throat. "I see you started without me."

As he leaned in and kissed the hollow between my collarbones I shrugged, "Not my fault you were sitting outside for an hour."

"Forty-five minutes," he corrected me. The change in his voice was so sudden, it sobered me instantly. As much as I wanted to keep the night pleasant, my curiosity would not rest until I knew what the purpose was for Clark's visit.

"What could you and Clark possibly talk about for that long?" I asked.

He stood suddenly, leaving me suddenly chilled in the absence of the warmth of his body on mine. Bruce stepped into the bathroom and wrapped a towel around his waist before looking at himself in the mirror. I rose as well, donning a terrycloth robe before following him, hopping up onto the sink counter mere inches from him.

"It was nothing."

"It was something."

He glanced at me briefly before turning around and leaning against the granite counter, "No, he just had to ask me a question is all."

"Oh really? The man can fly faster than a speeding bullet, I'm pretty sure he could ask a question in at least five minutes, even of you." I paused before continuing, "Is there something wrong between him and Lois?"

Bruce shook his head, "No, they're fine, everything's fine…" he turned and stood to face me, "I promise."

"All right, but if you're lying to me, I get your Christmas gifts."

He smirked before saying, "Speaking of which, I almost forgot…" I followed him back into the bedroom and sat on the bed while Bruce retrieved the small wrapped box that was on the dresser, mere inches from where he had thrown his watch earlier. As he sat beside me, he shook it next to his ear, "What could it be…"

I watched on as he carefully unwrapped the gift and proceeded to remove the top of the box. As he searched through the tissue paper I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder while looking on.

"It's a die," he pulled the sterling silver cube out of the box. As he began to read the sides, he smiled, "It's a very interesting die."

Smiling, I explained, "It's so that you can make decisions when you don't know what you want to do with your free time. I like this one, Getaway Weekend. Oh, and Night of Dancing."

Once he had read all of the sides, he shook it between his palms and let it fall to the mattress. We both peered over to read it and as a hand crept up my side, he commented, "Oh, look, my favorite."

^V^

"See any reindeer yet?" Nightwing's voice came merrily over the comm. link.

"Negative," I exhaled, my eyes glued to my binoculars as I aimed them towards a filmy window across the street. For a good part of the evening, patrols had been fairly mild so I had taken advantage of having extra time by tracking down a few of my favorite snitches.

Jay Collin, better known as Jayco, had been trying his luck at an underground casino from midnight on. I checked back several time and his wallet had grown thin and BAL had risen. When I came back the fourth time, I was just in time to see two bouncers throw him out into the back alley, threatening his manhood if he ever came back.

Stumbling to his feet, Jayco tried to earn back some of his dignity, "Yeah well you steroid snorting freaks better enjoy your jewels before they shrivel up!"

I followed him as he stumbled down the alley and four blocks to his humble abode. A fourth floor flat that had only three working light bulbs and no sign of holiday cheer. I had decided to at least watch him for thirty minutes, see if he was still as connected as he used to be. When he breezed by the window in tattered boxer shorts, I began to think he was no longer a favorite in the underworld.

Packing up my binoculars, I told Nightwing that I was going to head up to Grant Park to weed out any drug deals.

He laughed back, "Weed out… you kill me."

A soft crinkle of snow to my left suddenly caused my alertness to increase tenfold. I took a deep breath before turning, "Thought you would have gone home by now."

Superman stood stoically, arms crossed over his chest even though there was no way he physically could have felt the cold, "Figured I would lend a hand, the world seems to be thriving on holiday bliss tonight."

Unlike Bruce, I had always been in awe of Superman. I couldn't imagine going through life masquerading as a human while at all times holding back endless power. If that wasn't enough, he truly was a pure soul, caring for every life whether good or bad.

"I appreciate the offer but things are actually pretty quiet, even for Gotham."

He nodded, no doubt wondering if Bruce had schooled me in how to say no to him. "That's always good to hear. I've actually been impressed with how well you've handled things, it's like you born for this."

I shook my head a millimeter, "I've erred… Numerous times."

"We all have… Batman. It's just what we learn from those mistakes that truly matters."

Bruce had once said that Superman was a walking After School Special. Thinking of his words just then nearly made me smirk.

"He was never perfect," Superman spoke quietly.

"I know," I replied, perhaps too quickly. I added, "He was pretty close though."

He nodded, "But it took him a lifetime."

And cost him so much more, I thought.

Superman's head jerked suddenly and he looked to the east. Not a moment later, Oracle's voice came over the comm. link, "Boss, we've got a fire at Glenwood Living Development, gas line leak."

"We're on it."

"We?"

Instead of replying, I cut the connection and reached for my grapple gun but Superman stepped forward, "Care for a ride?"

Hesitant, I decided it was the better course as it would take nearly ten minutes to get to the scene otherwise. I latched my hand onto Superman's forearm and he did the same to me. I found myself holding my breath when he jumped into the sky and took off. Although every child dreams of having the ability to fly, it personally gave me the willies. Just the thought of floating around in the air with only minor changes in your position controls your direction and speed…

So wrong.

I told Superman to let me drop down on the roof adjacent to the twenty-story apartment building and just as he did so he took off and approached the blazing middle floors, no doubt scanning the inside for anyone trapped. I shot a grapple across and swung in towards him, following him inside.

"Family of four in the back!" he called out.

A blast of cold air, rich in carbon dioxide, blasted from his lips and the fire in the corridor receded substantially. With the path safer, I followed him to the apartment to the rear. Before he could make a move, I felt the door and inserted a re-breather into my mouth. In one kick, the door was in splinters and I was going in foot first into an inferno. Superman blasted cold air once more, this time aiming specifically towards the hallway that lead out the back of what once had been a living room.

The door on left yielded smoke, flickers of flames and cries for help. After somersaulting into the room, I caught Superman out of the corner of my eyes and pointed his attention to the window. He nodded and shattered the window and then immediately evaporated the glass with a blast of heat vision.

As I helped two soot covered adults to their feet, I guided them to Superman before retrieving the children. Both under the age of five, they screamed in my ears and one of them elbowed me in the eye. When I reached the window, I handed the tykes to Superman and watched in awe as their eyes widened and their cries silenced. Then again, the ever charming black curly lock and bright blue eyes must have been more welcoming than a pointy cowl and beady white eyes.

I fired a grapple to an adjacent building and ordered the man and woman to hold tight. As Superman leapt into the sky, the children nearly laughing at that point, I attached the line to my belt and held onto to my passengers before jumping as well. Once near the ground, I had the line recoil, slowing our descent to make a perfect landing. When they were steady on their feet, Superman landed beside us and the tykes were bouncing in his arms.

With no remaining people in the building, the Kryptonian volunteered to put the rest of the fire out, earning a grand applause from the gathered crowd of witnesses and fire fighters alike. I had taken refuge atop a neighboring apartment complex, watching the scene from up high.

He flew up and landed beside me, the broad clean face that I had been greeted by moments ago was ash covered but still on the verge of smiling. He dusted his hands off, "Good work."

"Not so bad yourself."

"Well, pending any other major disasters, I'd like to ask something of you."

I remained quiet.

"It's been some time since I've worked at your side... You provide something in your work that no other can seem to match. Call it an edge or analytical thinking or whatever… It's something that is essential for keeping this city, or any city for that matter, safe."

If I had wanted to speak, my vocal cords wouldn't have let me.

"We never filled your chair in the Watchtower, namely because there was no one worthy. It would be an honor if you would decide to come back and join us."

I had replaced my re-breather in its compartment on my utility belt shortly after reaching the rooftop but I suddenly wondered if my brain wasn't getting enough oxygen.

"Superman, I…"

"I know," he reached forward and set a hand on my shoulder but I was too stunned to shrug it off as he might have expected, "Don't decide tonight. And if you don't think you're ready to come back, your chair will stay empty until you are."

I stood shell shocked, watching as he floated into the air before taking off into the night sky. Perhaps this was a Christmas Carol come true and that had just been the Ghost of Christmas Present in a Superman outfit. And he hadn't really offered me a position in the Justice League but had instead asked me for my near-famous Eggnog recipe.

"Boss?" Oracle's voice brought me back.

"What?"

"I heard over the scanner that a certain blue tight sporting superhero just saved the day. And since Nightwing is trying to steal cocoa from a vendor on Madison, I would assume it was…"

"Superman. He's gone now."

"Well, that's always nice, superheroes being super together." When I didn't reply, she continued, "You all right?"

"Fine," I replied before telling her I was resuming patrols in Grant Park.

I was fine.

Aside from the fact that I couldn't help but wonder if I could get yelled at for playing Ultimate Frisbee in the Watchtower with Wally.

^V^


	12. What Lies Ahead: XII

Title: What Lies Ahead: XII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: He's faced murderers, psychotics and monsters. But his birthday party will be a whole different story.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I'm setting Bruce's birthday at February 19 as it is listed as being Earth-1's birth date for him on the DC Universe Calendar.

^V^

After adding one final pinch of colored sugar-free sprinkles, I smiled down at the perfect cupcake and said, "One down, twenty-nine to go."

My second grade teacher's birthday was the next day and the students had planned a surprise party for her. Each was responsible for bringing in something and I jumped at the chance to be in charge of making cupcakes. Aside from real cakes, they were my favorite.

Mom and I had taken over the kitchen after dinner and baked four trays of cupcakes, making well over the required thirty. I had been helping Alfred bake quite a bit since Christmas and he said it was always a good idea to go above and behind just in case a few didn't come out right.

I had added, "Or you could eat them yourself," and Alfred had smiled and agreed.

Surprisingly enough, he had not offered to help make cupcakes with me and had instead allowed Mom to help me. I promised we would make sure the kitchen wouldn't get covered in frosting and he had said, "As long as Master Dick does not magically appear to instigate trouble, I believe you, young miss."

Thinking back to the last time I stayed at Dick and Barbara's, I smiled knowing all too well how dangerous Dick could be in a kitchen.

Mom finished stirring the bowl of vanilla frosting and asked, "I thought you only had twenty-three kids in your class?"

"Ms. Fertig is turning thirty; I want to make one for every year."

Mom laughed and replied, "Well, hopefully you won't take as long on the others or we'll be up all night."

"Well, I don't want them to be ugly…" I said quietly as I grabbed the next cupcake that needed to be frosted.

She reached over and dipped her finger in the bowl of frosting before touching my nose, "An ugly cupcake is unheard of, kiddo."

I reached my tongue up and just managed to lick the frosting off of the tip of my nose.

Mom was sitting at the island counter with Nathan on her lap, helping him decorate a few of the spare cupcakes. After seeing Mom put frosting on my nose, he kept trying to do the same to her. So far he wasn't wearing any on his face or clothes but I knew it wouldn't be long before he managed to get it somewhere aside from his cupcake.

I was just about to start on a third cupcake when I heard footsteps in the hallway. I looked up just as Dad walked through the doorway, "I was wondering where everyone was hiding."

He paused behind Mom for a moment and put a hand on her shoulder before leaning against the corner, moving closer to Nathan. "This is an interesting cupcake," he said before wiping a bit of frosting off of my brother's forehead, just out of reach of a lock of black hair.

Nathan giggled and made a fast reach for a handful of icing. Mom moved the bowl out of his reach just in time to spare Dad of a frosting facial, "No, let's decorate our cupcakes, not Daddy."

"Dahdie a cupcahie," Nathan laughed and I looked up to see Dad was smirking.

"Do you want to decorate one, Dad?" I asked, already knowing his answer.

He paused before glancing at his watch, "I'd love to Kitten but I have to head out soon."

"Where?" I asked, already knowing his answer, yet again.

"In town," he touched Nathan's cheek gently.

Instead of nodding as always, I decided to ask, "On a Thursday night?"

Dad paused and I watched as his smirk disappeared briefly before he stepped forward and kissed my forehead, "It's for tomorrow night… Mom will tuck you in. Good night, kitten."

I went back to icing cupcakes with half the enthusiasm as before, doing my best to keep my eyes on my work instead of watching Dad say good-bye to Mom and Nathan.

Tomorrow night meant the birthday party his company was having for him. I remembered when he had found out, he told Mom at dinner and she was surprised that he had agreed. Dad had taken a long time to chew before swallowing. Then his eyes had narrowed just as they had when he found me and Cassandra in the basement of the townhouse a month ago.

Cass had been teaching me to mix somersaults with the neat defense moves I had already learned. It was actually pretty useful because when we did the karate unit in gym class at school I was way better than anyone else. But I had yet to roundhouse anything aside from a big rubber mat. Tim had come down and sat in the corner watching us work, shaking his head while he was smiling. Cassandra had told him that it was fine and that it was something fun for me to do.

I had agreed just before I did a one handed cartwheel, landing into a somersault right in front of him. Hands on my hips, I smirked at him and said, "Let's see what you can do."

Tim laughed as he left, "Sorry for invading the Girl Clubhouse, yeesh."

Cass and I were left alone for a bit longer when the basement door opened again. I had decided to show off to Tim again and did a pair of somersaults before leaping into the air with my right leg extended out like a Tim Scaring weapon, adding a "Hiyah!" for good measure.

Except it wasn't just Tim.

My barefoot had come even with Dad's belt and I could almost see the look on my face in the reflection of the brass buckle. He didn't say a word, just kept glaring at Cassandra and then Tim before looking back at Cassandra. When I put my foot down, he cleared his throat and said for me to get my things ready upstairs.

I had tried to be as quiet as possible and even left both the top and bottom doors leading to the basement ajar. I could barely hear my dad's voice; let alone what he was saying. I thought about sneaking down to listen but before I could, loud footsteps filled the stairway. Just before Dad emerged, I had dashed into the living room and jumped onto the couch.

The ride home had been very long and very quiet.

Later that night, I had snuck out of bed and made my way downstairs. Mom and Dad were talking in the den and I knew it had been about me. It was hard to make out what they were saying, but I had managed to get close enough to hear Dad, "They had no right…"

Then Mom, "Like you were going to teach her?"

"I hadn't planned on her having to know."

"Well, maybe she liked it."

"From the look on her face... she liked it too much."

The next day, Dad had spent the afternoon with me in the back yard, asking me to demonstrate everything Cassandra had taught me. Even though I was nervous, I did my best and when I was through he had nodded and said that I needed to work on my posture when I threw kicks.

Since then, Dad hadn't said another word about it and I spent Saturday afternoons with Cassandra, working on the very same things I had expected to never be allowed to do again. I thought it was weird but I wasn't about to complain.

"Are they still having his birthday party?" I asked suddenly.

Mom nodded as she helped Nathan pour sprinkles on the mound of fluff and icing that had been a cupcake five minutes earlier.

"I thought he didn't like parties."

"He doesn't, but… he has to. It helps his company if he goes to parties. It wouldn't look good if he stayed home all the time would it?"

"Nope," I replied.

Well despite everyone saying I was just like my father, I loved parties. I had been waiting all week for the big night. When Mom had explained the food and desserts and everything else that was going to be there, I couldn't understand why in the world Dad wouldn't be excited.

Then again, I guess Dad just didn't appreciate getting to wear a new dress out in public.

^V^

"Dick, can I run something by you quick?"

I looked up from my near empty desk to see Will Cutting standing in front of me.

He had been with us since the first of November and it was hard to imagine how we had accomplished anything before him. Will not only had the experience of a solid detective but he had the know how to work one-on-one with clients. Even better, he was a security nut and would spend hours on various layouts for cameras and sensors for both homes and businesses alike.

Aside from being a superb co-worker, it hadn't taken long for him to become a fast friend. Barbara and I often had him over for dinner and when Will had moved into his new apartment in January, Tim and I had helped him out for the day. He had two beautiful twin twelve year old girls named Amber and Allison that visited every other weekend. A nasty divorce had left his wife with significantly more custody as she had remarried six months after they had split. That and him retiring from the force left him without a stable income.

We saw a change to that.

"Sure thing, I just have to make a quick call."

As Will sat in one of the empty leather chairs in front of me, I dialed a number I had never called before eight-thirty in the morning in my entire life. After I put it on speaker phone, Jim looked up from his desk across the room. My activity was obviously more important than his morning ritual of caramel coffee and the newspaper crossword.

It rang six times before going to a nondescript answering service. I hung up and dialed again, determined to get an answer.

Another six rings.

And another.

Finally a growl, "What?"

I cleared my throat before bellowing off key, "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Bruce! Happy birthday to you!"

Surprisingly, Bruce didn't hang up mid-performance. As I stared intently at the phone waiting for his response, I heard Selina in the background laughing hysterically. Bruce finally spoke, "And I thought Nathan's gift of clean diaper this morning was childish…"

"Just wanted to make sure you had a good start to your special day," I replied, grinning despite the confused look on Will's face.

"I beat you to it, Dick. Didn't I, Bruce?" Selina called out.

My grin was lost to eruptive laughter as Bruce told her to be quiet with a tone we all knew to well. As tears came to my eyes, I managed a look over in Jim's direction to see that he too was wrought with a case of the giggles. As expected, Bruce hung up before his wife could make matters any worse.

As we caught our breath, Will reluctantly asked, "Who was that?"

I sighed, "My uh… My adopted father. It's his forty-fifth birthday," I then looked over to Jim, "But that is in no way my adopted mother."

When Jim's ears started to turn red, he excused himself to get another cup of coffee.

The look on Will's face said he was not only lost, but entirely too new to feel comfortable enough asking about what the hell was going on. I decided that even though he had only been on board for a few months and that if he wanted to know it wouldn't be hard for him to research, but I'd be nice and shed some light for him.

I stood and approached Jim's desk, "It is his wife but if I ever called her 'Mom' she'd kill me," I paused as I searched through the paper, keeping my eye out for the society section.

"Ah. Is she a lot younger than him?"

I shook my head, "Only by a few years. But they have two kids together, a nine year old and … Nathan's will be two this summer… Anyway, she's more of a friend to me than a maternal figure… Here we are." I handed the section to Will, with no need to point out Bruce's color picture that dominated the front page, nor the bold headline that read: _Gotham's Son turns 45_! I had already read the two page article that made an attempt to explain Bruce's history, accomplishments and contributions to the city. Also, a second article that delved into every lavish detail of the party Wayne Enterprises was having for him that evening.

Will was silent and motionless, telling me he couldn't even look at anything beyond the press picture. It was one of my favorites actually, as it wasn't Bruce being a foppish idiot at a party but it was a cropped image of him at one of many charity events. But where actresses and models had once stood next to him with his arm around their waist, Selina, stood with a sly smile on her lips.

"Wow," he finally managed.

"Yeah… His hair's a lot grayer than that, they must have airbrushed it."

He paused again then laughed, "You kill me, Dick."

"What?"

"This is almost as good as when you sent me to evaluate your apartment and had Barbara ready at the front door with the shotgun."

"You think I'm kidding?" I asked, not an ounce of anger in my voice. As Jim walked in, I asked, "Jim, isn't Bruce my father?"

"I thought you said you were a test tube baby?" he replied carefully setting his mug down before sitting himself.

"Seriously, Jim."

He must have realized that I was trying to convince Will of the hard to believe truth, as he nodded while locking eyes with our newest colleague, "It's true, Bruce took you in when you were, what, ten?"

"See, I told you. I'll even prove it, what are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing, why?"

"You're coming to his party."

Will laughed again, "Am I?"

I stepped towards him and patted him on the shoulder, "Get your coat, we're getting you a tuxedo."

"Why?" Will asked as he stood slowly.

I smirked, "…Because you're going to his party."

Will glanced over at Jim who in turn shrugged, "Don't look at me, I'm already stuck going, you might as well be."

I had already donned my coat and headed to the lobby before Will realized I wasn't joking for once. He didn't catch up with me until I stepped onto the curb and called for a taxi. When he walked up next to me, he said, "Dick, you don't have to do this, I believe you."

"I know, but I really want you to believe me. Besides, it's either you go drink expensive booze, eat exquisite food and mingle with Gotham's finest or sit home and watch reruns of Law & Order and point out all of the inaccuracies."

He sighed, "I really do hate that show…"

"See, you're much better off getting drunk with me. And Tim and his girl will be there and Bruce has been wanting to meet you."

"You told him about me?"

"He likes to keep up to date on what I do."

A cab pulled up and we both moved in, thankful for the stale warm air inside. I rattled of the address of Harton's, a men's boutique, not that Bruce would ever call it that.

"Does he... Does he own your business?"

"No, that I started on my own. I had quite a bit saved up and I needed to do something with my time or Barbara was going to kill me."

Four hours later, William Cutting was the proud new owner of a tailored tuxedo by Giorgio Bissoni. I had tried to get him to try on a gaudy plaid get up with coat tails but he sighed, "For the last time, I'm not that William Cutting."

When the clerk rang up the suit, he's eyes nearly shot out of their orbits at the total of eight-hundred dollars.

I snuck in and offered my credit card before leaning in and telling him, "Consider this your February bonus."

The ride back took much longer as we hit pre-lunch traffic. My mind kept drifting to the two teenaged punks that had tried to do battle with me the night before. I almost felt bad after colliding their heads together, rendering them unconscious. But then again they had started it with the whole shooting at me thing…

"I suppose I can't expect you to fix me up with a date for tonight along with the tux?"

After shrugging, I replied, "Only if you'll settle for A-List actresses."

"Really?"

I managed to hold back my laughter for the first time that day, "Did I say A-List actresses? I meant my little sister might need someone to do The Twist with."

^V^

"Your tie's crooked."

Bruce was standing in front of the bathroom sink eyeing his reflection in the mirror one last time before we left for the dreaded birthday party. As I leaned on the door framed, I watched as he adjusted his bowtie to perfection.

Alfred had gladly agreed to watch Nathan for the night and when Leslie had finished up her charts she had planned on coming up to keep him company. We planned on having Mattie stay no later than nine, after which she and Barbara would head to the Clocktower for the rest of the night. Barring any tragedies, we would pick her up on the way home a little after midnight.

If not sooner, if Bruce had anything to do with it.

While I had been doing my own makeup and hair not an hour earlier, Mattie had come into our bathroom and asked if I could help her get ready. With her hair well beyond her shoulders, I convinced her to let me pull it back, allowing her curls to neatly flow down her shoulders. As for the makeup, I added the slightest dusting of blush and eye shadow before applying a light pink lip gloss. Bruce had walked in at that moment, asking if I had seen his onyx cuff links. When his eyes fell on Mattie, I knew he was thinking that once she began dressing that way to go out with boys, he was done for.

She had spun around, showing off her purple silk dress that had intricate black embroidery and beadwork that formed a pretty ivy vine design. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," he managed.

I stepped forward into the bathroom and kissed his cheek. He continued fussing with an unruly lock of gray hair that had gone rogue since he had applied gel not ten minutes earlier.

"Leave it, makes you look not a day over forty-four."

"Thanks," he sighed before giving up. When he locked eyes with me, he said, "You ready?"

I shook my head before leaning in and kissing him on the lips, "Now I am."

We checked in with Alfred to say goodbye to Nathan, who was a bit fussy after having very short nap earlier in the day. Luckily, he adored Alfred and I had no worries of him being bad about going to bed. As we made our way downstairs, I slipped an arm around his waist, "Mattie's anxiously waiting for us in the den."

"At least someone's excited about tonight."

"Oh, come on."

"I mean it. I hate these things."

I leaned against him slightly, "You are impossible to please."

"It's not that…" he paused in the middle of the last flight of stairs, putting a hand on my elbow to stop me as well. "It's the same reason I haven't had any public parties for ten years now… Every time the Wayne name is attached to a big event, some random criminal shows up wanting everyone's jewelry and wallets… And then I always had to…"

"Had to change from one black suit into another…" I finished for him. He looked away, his eyes showing a hint of pain, something he rarely allowed anyone to see. I kissed him again, letting my lips settle on his cheek before moving towards his ear, "Sorry."

He pressed his lips to my ear, "No, you're right… I just want you to know that if something happens… and I start drinking heavily…"

"Shut up," I snickered before biting his ear lobe, "Let's go, we don't want to be late."

Mattie was indeed waiting anxiously in the den and when we arrived at the door together she rolled her eyes, "Were you kissing and stuff?""

I smiled, "It is his birthday."

"Gross," she stuck out her tongue and hopped off of the couch, leading the way to the front door. We each donned our coats before heading out to the limo that was waiting outside. Bruce made a ladies first gesture and waited for Mattie and I to get in before sitting next to me in the back seat.

We spent nearly a half of an hour in the limo, making our way from Bristol into the heart of Gotham. Although Mattie visited the city often, she rarely had the chance to do so at night and it showed as her eyes were glued out the window at the countless lights. With her attention diverted, I kept teasing Bruce but as we became closer to our destination, he became more distant, half hearted squeezes of his hand and delayed half-smirks to whatever I whispered in his ear.

As we pulled up to the hotel, Bruce shook his head and said, "Showtime."

The second the driver opened the door, the flashbulbs hit with the incredible force that only the sun could do battle with. Bruce stepped out and offered a courtesy wave and grin to the photographers and reporters that had been banned from the party before reaching in and offering a hand to help me out. I heard his and my name being shouted out but I did my best to block it out and told Mattie to keep a hold of my hand.

Entering the lobby of the hotel, we were met by the manager and at least a dozen of his minions, all claiming to be deeply honored that we had chosen to hold the festivities at the Hotel Blanche. As they took our coats, Bruce shrugged and smiled, "Don't thank me, for once I'm not paying the bill."

They laughed as if he was a comedic genius before showing us the way to the ballroom.

The room was filled with hundreds of faces, about a dozen I could say I had actually spoken with before. We walked in just as the maitre d announced our arrival. Those who weren't already to busy drinking, eating or dancing offered a lavish applause that left my ears ringing. Keeping one hand locked with Bruce's and the other with Mattie's, we followed the manager to the head table were several Wayne Enterprise board members were smiling and waiting. At the table just in front of us, I spotted Dick and Barbara, Jim, Cassandra and Tim and another man I couldn't recognize. Then I recalled that Dick had said something earlier that afternoon about bringing the new guy from their firm to the party.

"I have to prove to him that I actually know Bruce," had been his reasoning.

Mattie waved at them and then decided to sit next to me so that I could sit next to her father. I kissed her cheek before looking to my left to see Bruce shaking hands with the board members and being the good birthday boy. After a few minutes, the party guests settled as the MC announced that dinner was to be served shortly.

When I spotted the first of the army of servers, Bruce sat beside me and smiled slightly.

"You're not having fun are you?"

He shook his head, "Wouldn't dream of it."

We spent the next hour working our way through a delectable four course meal, interrupted briefly by the MC handing the microphone off to a few of Bruce's "friends" so that they may wish him a happy birthday. Mattie wanted to know if she could talk on the microphone but when Bruce's eyes widened, she said, "Just kidding, Dad."

I had expected a larger than life birthday cake and a horrendous birthday singing by the choir of tipsy socialites but surprisingly, dessert was served without off-key shrieking. Mattie said she wanted to go sit with Dick and Barbara and I told her she could. I watched as she left and Bruce leaned in, "Can I sit down there, too?"

"Only if you finished your asparagus."

He grinned and stood before pulling out my chair. We made our way to the table, finding that Mattie had already made herself comfortable on Dick's lap. I wasn't surprised to see that she had also helped herself to the cherry on Dick's cheesecake.

"Well, well, look who decided to come visit with the rest of the world," Barbara grinned before pulling back a strand of auburn hair.

Bruce managed to speak, his face completely deadpan, "I forgot to tell you, this was a charity event as well, five-thousand dollar a plate meal… And Dick you've had what, at least ten plates?"

"Nine," he corrected Bruce.

I watched on as he leaned in and shook Jim's hand before saying, "So this must be William Cutting."

The brown haired man stood and quickly shook Bruce's hand, "It's an honor to meet you… and thank you for letting me come tonight."

"More the merrier. Dick's had nothing but good things to say about you."

Will looked genuinely surprised as he glanced over at Dick, "Is that so?"

After Mattie fed Dick a mouthful of dessert, he grinned showing whipped topping all over his teeth.

Will continued, "But I guess that doesn't really say much considering Dick is… a dick."

Bruce laughed and began to chat with Will and Jim for a bit while I moved next to Barbara, "I guess I forgot how extravagant these things are… I was worried for Mattie but she seems to be having fun." We both looked over to see her kissing Dick on the cheek, fighting back a giggle.

"We're going to head home soon. Before either Mattie or Dick gets another dessert anyway. Last thing I need is both of them bouncing around tonight with a sugar overdose."

I told Bruce he should say good night to Mattie. After we had both kissed her and said our good-byes to Dick and Barbara, I led him to the dance floor. He was reluctant but when I began to claw the inside of his elbow through his jacket he smiled and submitted.

As much as Bruce despised the social life he had to uphold, he played the part all too well. For nearly an hour, we danced together on the main ball room floor, mingling amidst the famous faces of Gotham. A little after nine, Tim and Cassandra came over to bid their farewells and Bruce said for Tim to give his father and Dana his best. Bruce and I then shared champagne with the governor and his wife and traded stories of raising a family in today's world.

At half past ten, I had just leaned in to tell him that the party wasn't a disaster after all.

Then nearly a dozen men who had served food and champagne throughout the evening emerged through the double kitchen doors no longer wearing tuxedos, but Kevlar suits and ski masks.

Instead of asking the guests if they preferred the red or the white wine, they shot semi-automatic rifles into the air, screaming, "Everybody down!"

I felt Bruce tense the muscles of his arm as he wrapped it around me and when I looked up at him, he sighed, "I told you so."

^V^

Since I had driven alone and since Will had helped him self to a few glasses of Guinness, I offered to drive him home. We had stayed well after Dick and Barbara had left with Mattie, entertaining ourselves by pointing out familiar faces in the crowd.

After a few beers, Will opened up a bit, feeling a bit more comfortable about asking questions that had no doubt been brewing in his head all day. Tim and Cassandra were doing their best to dance. To think that they were masters of martial arts and they were having trouble keeping from stepping on one another.

Will stared intently at the seat Dick had occupied earlier that evening and asked, "So what happened to Dick's biological parents?"

I took a deep breath before replying, "Ever hear of the Flying Graysons?" When he shook his head, I continued, "They were the most highly regarded performing trapeze artists in the world. John and Mary and their little boy, Richard."

"Dick… What happened?"

"They came to Gotham City when Dick was ten years old, performing with the Haley Circus. A crime boss had them killed in order to extort money from the circus owner… The ropes were cut through partially and when Mary and John went out for the first act…"

"Oh my God."

"Dick saw the whole thing… Bruce had been at the circus; saw the look in Dick's eyes. I guess he took Dick in because he felt he had already gone through it, that maybe he could help Dick."

"That's right, I heard something on the news a while back, Wayne's parents were murdered when he was little."

I nodded, "At first Bruce didn't want to be a father to Dick, just a mentor. But as the years passed… I've never seen two people share such a bond, bound by blood or not."

"He must have done something right… Dick turned out pretty damn normal to have been through that."

I laughed, thinking of Dick in his Robin uniform doing handstands on the rooftop of GCPD. Tim and Cassandra had returned just then and I told them that Will thought Dick was normal. Tim laughed as he sat down, "Normal… doesn't even cover it."

In between trying to accept every guest's birthday wishes, Bruce had come back shortly after Tim and Cassandra had left. Selina had gone to powder his nose and he admitted as he sat down next to me, "I'm too scared to be out in that madness without her on my arm."

As he went about adjusting his bowtie, I couldn't help but look his face over. He was genuinely happy, and I was thankful for that. Far too long he had suffered in solitude and in silence. Selina had a way of keeping him in touch with reality, and I had no doubt that it involved claws and threats in the form of growls.

Bruce had broken the silence and asked, "So how goes the security business."

"It's secure," Will said, so straight faced I wasn't sure if he was joking or not. But when he cracked a sly smile, I couldn't help but chuckle.

Selina returned not ten minutes later, taking a seat on Bruce's lap. Will did his best not to stare, but who could blame him. She had always had a magnificent physique, and her shimmering black gown must have been painted on, leaving a low cut neck line that dipped beyond her sternum. It wasn't long before they excused themselves to return to the dance floor. I kept my eye on them until they were lost in a sea of glamour.

At ten, I asked Will if he was ready to head home. He nodded slowly and stood carefully, causing me to smile. I had gone out for drinks with him a few times after work. It was nice to see him loosen up as he tended to be a bit too driven when it came to his work. Seeing him a bit on the tipsy side wasn't new to me but it still was just as amusing.

Being a Friday night, I was already mentally preparing for a nightmarish ride home. I tipped him a ten and he looked at me as if it was a used tissue. He was probably paid more than most cops and used to tips in the triple digits, but I'd be damned if I rewarded him for driving my car thirty yards without crashing it.

After I settled in, I fought to merge my way onto the street. Club goers were just starting their night and here I was calling it quits. We inched along; block by block, eventually making four miles pass by on the odometer in a little less than thirty minutes. A bad habit, one I surely would never break, I turned the police scanner on in place of the radio.

"… Copy that Unit 126, request 10-30, all available units report to the Hotel Blanche at the intersection of Martin and Rexford… 10-6 in progress, ten suspects reported…"

"Jesus Christ," I managed, translating the code that had just rattled off the scanner as a robbery in progress. Ten suspects, at least two hundred hostages…

Ten years ago, Bruce Wayne would have quietly snuck out of sight in order to don the cape and cowl, saving the day single handedly before managing to change back into his tuxedo, feigning he had passed out in the men's room.

But it wasn't ten years ago.

My passenger sobered instantly, "Jim we have to go back."

Four GCPD patrol cars zoomed passed the car and not a moment later the SWAT team vans followed suit. Turning around would be a nightmare, almost as impossible as getting anywhere near that hotel once the police set up barricades. Even with the weight of my name, Kelsey would follow orders, keeping civilians out of the way.

But she couldn't do a damned thing about vigilantes.

It was another half hour before I managed to get back to Rexford and another ten minutes to find an empty parking place. Will and I worked our way through the growing crowd of onlookers. I caught a quick glance at Kelsey's stern face and led the way to the front of the pack of jackals. It would be cruel to try and interrupt what seemed t be her screaming at every officer in sight, so I simply stood quietly behind the sawhorse and watched.

I didn't envy her; lord knew how many similar dilemmas I had found myself in over the years. If it wasn't showdowns with drug dealers or the mob it was doing battle with the maniacs and colorful career criminals that called Gotham home. I was actually surprised that she had yet to deal with any of the Rogue's gallery herself, that Batman and the others had done the dirty work for her.

Maybe this was going to be her breakthrough performance.

My cell phone began to chirp in my pants pocket and I rubbed my hands together before answering it, "Yes?"

"Dad, it's me, there's been a---."

I cut her off, "I know, Will and I were on our way home, we came back when we heard it on the scanner. Have you heard from anyone?"

"I've been texting back and forth with Selina, apparently there were ten men posing as servers that came out of the kitchen demanding all valuables. They planned on just getting the goods and leaving but one of the wait staff called the police and now they're But the Calvary are already on the way."

I suddenly felt very sorry for the poor bastards that had decided to hold up Bruce Wayne's birthday party.

As I hung up, I heard the all too familiar flap of leather from up above. With most of the crowd obsessing over the ground floor doors and the flashing lights, I was the only one that spotted a trio of dark garbed figures on nearly invisible lines to the rooftop of the hotel. I was about to point it out to Will but he had already followed my gaze and was staring in disbelief, "Was that…?"

"Yep."

"You… You know them, don't you?"

"Yep."

"Is it true, that he's just a man?"

"A man in a mask fighting an endless war on crime," I replied, losing sight of the figures as they made their way into the ventilation ducts of the roof.

"A good friend to have around, I suppose," Will kept staring at the rooftop.

"You could say that," I said aloud, although I wasn't picturing Tim Drake's face.

Whether it be Bruce or Tim, I was certain both were showing one serious Bat-glare at that very moment.

^V^

Once breaking into the hotel, we collected in an empty suite before moving out. Having spent several hours at the party, I had passed the time looking for escape routes and optimal places to herd innocent bystanders in the event of an emergency. When Cassandra had tried to get my attention, I explained what I was doing and she had laughed, "You really are turning into him."

One of my first concerns had been that security in general had been lax. I spotted a few individuals but they had been there strictly to protect the governor. It was hard to tell if this was a political attack or not but for the time being it was difficult to put a man I knew only from the voting booth ahead of the man that had changed my life form the day I had met him.

Picturing the ballroom in my mind, I delivered the orders, "Batgirl, take the kitchen. Nightwing, scout out the ballroom from the balcony. Set up trip wires at the exits to the north and south alleys, that way we can have the hostages go out the east exit."

"What about you?"

"I'm crashing the party."

Nightwing smirked, "Man, I wanted to crash the party…"

For the next fifteen minutes, we silently scored the hotel, working our way down to the main floor. Batgirl had come across a number of look outs and had knocked them unconscious before bounding them together. As Dick reached the second floor, he came across a cluster of armed men and had Batgirl join him in taking them out fast enough to prevent them from getting any shots off. Any gunfire would tip the men off downstairs, making our work that much harder.

Oracle came over the comm. link, speaking to all of us, "Selina contacted me again. They have a gunman at the head table where she and Bruce, the governor and the board members are sitting. They are sending a hostage out with the demands right now."

"What are they?" Nightwing asked.

"$100 million and a plane to Mexico."

"Anyone hurt yet?"

"Mostly it's been scare tactics, waving guns, shouting but… They pistol whipped Bruce… Selina said he was out for a few seconds but she wasn't sure if he was faking it or not. They're keeping them at opposite sides of the table so she can't talk to him."

I was quiet for a moment before asking, "Can she ID any of them?"

"No, she says they are all Americans but it seems to be falling apart. They're fighting, almost constantly. The leader is the one at the head table; he's the one that hit Bruce."

"Was it provoked?" Nightwing asked.

"Somewhat, Bruce was telling them to let everyone go and that he would get them

whatever they wanted. When that didn't work, Bruce went back to the table sighing, then he told the what could they expect, only a fool would take advantage of a birthday party."

Well played, Bruce, get their attention on you as the trouble maker.

I asked, "I need visuals, O. I saw a few cameras in the ball room, send them to my portable."

"I'm on it," she said before she promised to update us when she heard from Selina again.

While Nightwing and Batgirl made their way to secure the exits and set the traps for anyone who tried to escape, I snuck into the ceiling above the ballroom. Once above what I presumed to be the chandelier, I cut a small spy hole and inserted the flexible arm of a high powered digital camera. I was mere feet from the center of the massive chandelier and adjusted the contrast of the image accordingly.

I had a good view of the kitchen door and the bar area but not of the rest of the room. Just then, I heard a voice over the comm. link, "Video's on its way."

After changing the setting on the camera from live to online feed, the screen filled with the image of huddling and crying people seated at their tables. Then, the image changed to that of the head table and I asked Oracle to keep it there for a second.

Bruce sat at the far right of the head table, his brow bloodied, but otherwise he seemed fine. A man in full Kevlar padding was standing just behind him, a semi-automatic slung over his shoulder while he checked the ammo in his .22. He then aimed at the back of Bruce's head and whispered something in his ear. I had almost wished I had planted a bug on him at some point in the evening but I had reasoned that everything was going to be fine.

I then had Oracle continue scanning the various views of the ballroom before asking her to show me the exits. With ten armed, frightened men in a room of two hundred hostages, taking the extra time wasn't going to hurt. The guards that had been attending the party were tied and gagged, their weapons evenly distributed amongst the henchmen.

As I sized up the group, I noticed the headsets that some of the more confident men were wearing and proceeded to scan my radio to match their frequency. After synching it up to the shapes their mouths were making, I listened intently.

A second man approached the leader at the main table, "Lon's on his way back from taking the hostage out front."

"Good."

"And if they don't make good in an hour?"

"… I guess we'll have to keep our end of the bargain and kill a hostage."

I contacted Nightwing on the comm. link, "One of the gunmen is on his way back from the East entrance after letting the hostage go with the demands. Be sure he doesn't come make it."

He replied, "Will do," before cutting the connection.

I then made contact with Batgirl, "What's your twenty?"

"Kitchen's secure. Three more gunmen, taken care of."

"Good. Make your way to the northwest corner entrance of the ballroom. I'll have Oracle cut the lights when they go looking for their backups that aren't responding. Then they're all yours."

"Copy," then silence.

After asking Oracle if Selina had been in contact, her negative response led me to ask her to cut the lights on my command for the entire hotel. She replied, "It'll take about a minute to get into to the Gotham Power and Gas but then all you need to do is say the word."

Despite the number of times we had devised infiltration tactics over the years, mainly at the last second, I generally fell back on three main plans. Each of which I had mastered during endless hours of James Bond video games.

Nightwing had always called it the Clue Plan, minus Tim Curry and the maid.

And dog doodoo.

With their reserve men on the upper floors and exits already disabled, there was nothing left to do but disarm and take the remaining flunkies captive by way of the most fear inducing manner possible. Namely having the lights go out long enough to have a henchman or two disappear after a blood curdling scream.

Eventually who was ever left would have to face off with three very agitated vigilantes.

Focusing back in on their radio frequency, I heard my cue to set things in motion, "Lon's not back yet."

"Probably lost. Send Chase and Tad to find him."

They were barely down the corridor leading from the ballroom to the main lobby when I had Oracle cut the lights, giving Nightwing fifteen seconds the scare years off of the two men before knocking them unconscious. When the lights came back on, the screams in the hall had only caused nearly a dozen in the ballroom, far too many of them old, wealthy men.

I toggled through the views and found Bruce looking directly up at one of the cameras. I couldn't tell if it was because he was concussed or not, but I could have sworn he was smiling.

The leader swore loudly and asked his men to secure every entrance into the ball room. After confirming Batgirl was at her destination, Oracle cloaked the building in darkness. A few cries of terror and audible thuds later, the lights returned and so did the shrieks amongst the hostages.

"Oracle, what's happening outside?"

"Commissioner was holding strong until we started playing Peek a Boo. Now she's organizing SWAT to strike before midnight. The negotiator can't get a hold of anyone to try and reason... but I didn't see any active phone lines in the ballroom. The kitchen is the nearest one."

I paused before replying, "We have them down to six. If we can knock off another two, we'll go in. SWAT's just going to make a bloodbath in here with this many people."

"No argument here. Just tell me when to play God."

I returned to the radio broadcast, "No one's answering on any floor, boss. Frankie in the kitchen. Nothing. And Lon still hasn't come back. Someone is in the building…"

"Shut up…"

I toggled the view back to the main table just in time to see the leader search the faces of the main table, "We'll send out a body, that will call the cops off."

"Boss, no offense, but who ever goes out with that body isn't coming back. And if there's only six of us as it is…"

"Do it!"

Two screens over, I watched as a man in Kevlar reached for the shivering figure of a young man.

Not much older than me with dark brown curls trimmed close to his scalp.

Tim Bryce. The District Attorney of Gotham City.

As I ordered everyone to move in, I couldn't help but wonder if Bruce had known he had been invited or if it was a sheer coincidence. Either way, our brief interactions over the last month had not been productive but nor had they been damaging. Marginally progressive, if anything. Either way, something happening to him would only make finding another good candidate for the job that much more impossible.

With the center of the dance floor bare, I felt confident that crashing down on the chandelier wouldn't harm too many people. Aside from a few people's bank accounts. Fifteen feet above the ground, I shot a line and swung towards a small grouping of armed men feeling two out of fifty bullets fired embed themselves into my Kevlar. They would be nasty bruises in the morning, but nothing more. While Nightwing joined in on the target practice, Batgirl emerged and helped direct hostages out of harm's way.

I checked over my shoulder once when Batgirl had made her way through two men with bodyguard supplied handguns in order to reach the main table. Bruce was finally putting on the frightened image that his fellow partygoers had been sporting for the last hour as to fit in.

With the room nearly free of hostages, the three remaining gunmen quickly succumbed to a barrage of gas pellets and a few harder than necessary blows to seal the deal. As we bound them, I heard Oracle over the comm. link saying that the hostages were coming out of the building and that SWAT was on its way in.

As we made our way out, I thought on how they would arrive to a mess of bound, bruised, bleeding, sneezing and crying men on four floors of the hotel.

It might as well have been the GCPD's birthday.

^V^

"Mr. Wayne, "I really suggest you let us take you to the hospital for an MRI."

I sat in the back of an ambulance on a gurney, eyes glued to the flashing light chaos in front of the hotel. After running out with the rest of the hostages nearly two hours earlier, I had lost Selina in the throng as paramedics had ushered me to their rig. I kept saying that I needed to find her and the medics had assumed I was concussed.

"No, that's quite all right. If anything I'll go tomorrow morning when I'm hung over," I smiled brightly and then winced, feigning pain as they attached a series of butterfly bandages.

A pair of lieutenants had just interviewed me about the incident, no doubt per order of the commissioner. Only the best for the best. I cooperated for the most part, and when they tried to talk circles around me, I feigned a bit of light headedness and the medics had them leave. The duo was reluctant but left me a card and said they would be getting in touch with me.

"Some birthday party, huh?" the older male medic joked.

"Should have had someone video it, sell it as a movie online," I joined in the senseless chit chat.

As they retook my vitals and reiterated the need for me to go the hospital, I caught sight of a shimmering black dress. Selina approached, fighting the smile on her lips, carrying my camel hair coat, "I just stood at the coat check for an hour. They were trying to claim them as evidence but some woman said that terrorists don't wear Gucci."

I smiled as she leaned against the ambulance's rear doors.

"Well, if you are sure you don't want to go to the hospital, Mr. Wayne…" the medic tried for the fiftieth time.

"I'm fine. Besides, I might not be young but the night sure is," I shook their hands, signed the release then thanked them for their service to the city. I carefully stepped off the back of the rig and took my coat from Selina before donning it.

The valet service was in a panic as nearly a hundred individuals wanted nothing but to go home at the very same moment. The line to the valet booth was actually long than the line to speak with the detectives who were taking names and lists of what items had been taken from them. Eventually, they would sort through and return everything, no doubt with a few hundred dollar bills misplaced… Luckily I hadn't brought a wallet and when the lead gunmen had asked why not, I had replied, "It's my birthday party, I figured I wouldn't need it."

Any of the brief conversations with the gunmen had been under my control, not his. I had slowly worked away at his nerves without him realizing it. Even after he had used brute force against me, I still chatted with the board members as if nothing was wrong. I had even gone as far as asking if then band resume playing and if things hadn't already gone as so poorly, he probably would have shot me.

Glancing at the National Bank's illuminated clock face, I saw that it was one-thirty and if the butt of gun hadn't completely demolished my memory, I knew there was an all night café eight blocks away.

Selina said, "I think it will take a gallon of espresso to undo the last few hours."

We took a cab in light of the frigid air and the slim traffic had us there in less than ten minutes. We drank espresso but the cup, not gallon, and sat in silence in a booth next to the window. After two cups, Selina suggested, "Let's leave Mattie at the Clocktower. We can pick her up in the morning and try and explain everything before she sees it on the news."

"Sounds like a plan."

She reached over and gently probed the swollen flesh at my temple, "Bastard got you good didn't he?"

"It was for show, trying to demonstrate his dominance."

"Right, dominance. Like when Tim hog tied him and knocked four of his teeth out."

"Something like that."

I had known they would try and handle the situation before the cops muddled it up, but I honestly hadn't expected them to handle it so quickly and so… effortlessly. The Black Out method was almost always effective but they had carried it out to perfection. And when they had appeared in the ballroom, I figured that they had learned that SWAT was going to do something stupid and had decided to get things over and done with.

When Selina went to pay for our coffee, the waitress smiled, "It's on the house, happy birthday, Mr. Wayne."

I called Evan, the company employee that had driven the limousine for the night, and had him pick us up at the café. When he asked if were going to Tri-Town on the way home, I told him that we weren't and that I would pick Mattie up in the morning.

"All right, sir, I'll be there in ten minutes."

I had expected the ride home to be quiet but as we made the St. James on-ramp, Selina sighed, "And to think, I still haven't even given you your birthday gift."

I squeezed her hand softly, surprised to find her fingers to be cold. Grasping it in mine, I replied, "You've given me all that I need."

"Did you just rattle of a corny romance-comedy line? Maybe you are concussed."

As we pulled up to the Manor, I spotted that only three rooms were lit; the main entryway, the third floor corridor and Alfred's bedroom. I searched the parking area but was surprised to see that Leslie's sedan was missing. Shortly after making my way out of the hotel, I had called Barbara to ensure that Alfred had been contacted. He had made no mention as to whether the doctor had made her way up for a visit.

I tipped Evan generously for his troubles and he tried to refuse. I then said for him to make sure his wife enjoyed a fine meal out that evening and he chuckled before finally accepting.

When he set off down the drive, I was confused to see Selina approaching the garage instead of the house. I followed her willingly, thinking that perhaps she was intending to go through the secondary service entrance. It was when she made her way into the garage and turned on the lights that I finally asked, "What are you doing?"

"Do you want your birthday gift or not?" she asked coyly.

I glanced around the garage at the various vehicles that rarely saw daylight, both collector's dream cars and playboy weekend toys. Nothing looked out of the ordinary until I spotted a draped vehicle amongst its bare, glossy roommates. When I looked to Selina she smirked and said, "Well, open it."

Cautiously, I approached the vehicle and pulled back the drapes, revealing the sheen of a smooth black hood. Looking to the nose of the car, I spotted the unforgettable pouncing image of a Jaguar. Once the sheet was completely removed, it took another second to recognize the body of a late sixties Jaguar SJ6. I had a number of Jaguars in my army of automobiles but this was certainly not a duplicate.

"Do you like it?"

"It's gorgeous."

"Do you remember it?"

I looked up to see her walking towards me, wrapping her coat tighter around her form despite the even fifty-five degrees of the heated garage. I then glanced over the vehicle once more, waiting for a memory to spark.

And when it did, I fought not to smile.

"I sold it fifteen years ago to a collector."

I fought back a flood of memories form the first night a young Bruce Wayne had courted the elusive and seductive socialite, Selina Kyle. At the time it had been merely for show, maintaining the image of Bruce Wayne bedding a different woman each night. But the charades that I had mastered with others had been fruitless against Selina.

"We went to the museum…" she started.

I nodded, "Then Berkley's for a night cap before… we drove out of the city, double the speed limit on the state highway."

She smiled, "I made you pullover in that empty farmer's market, pulled you into the backseat. You were so scared."

"I was not."

"You were, I saw it in your eyes. That's why I didn't let it go too far. That and I had other things to do that night."

"Like steal from the museum we went to?"

"Like your excuse was any better? 'I have an early meeting in the morning…' You were so lame."

I paused before opening the back door, "Well, I don't have a meeting tomorrow."

She laughed loudly and replied, "And I don't have a museum to rob."

My brow tightened slightly as it did whenever she brought our past into the present. A look that quickly vanished when she stepped forward and kissed me softly, "But I'm still not going to do it in the back of your car."

I looked at her solemnly and said, "But it's my birthday."

She pointed to the wall clock, "Not anymore."

Reluctantly, I closed the car door and followed her into the house, shutting the lights off before passing through. I offered to take Selina's coat to hang it in the closet in the foyer and she said she would head upstairs to check on Nathan. Before heading up myself, I stopped in the kitchen and poured a glass of water before opening the small cabinet above the sink, well out of reach of young fingers. After finding a bottle of ibuprofen, I popped two tablets into my mouth before washing them down.

I had suffered countless concussions over the years and was certain the worst that would develop form the night's injury was a massive headache in the morning. In order to reduce my suffering, I decided pain relief was the wiser choice.

Selina stood at Nathan's crib when I passed by. I decided to walk in and check on him as well, smiling to see him hugging the life out of a stuffed giraffe. In a little less than five months he would be two years old, making me fifty years old when he would enter the second grade…

After setting a hand on Selina's elbow, we made our way out of his room and then down the hall. Once in the confines of the bedroom, Selina shut the door and turned on the lights. I walked over to the dresser and went about removing my cufflinks and tie. Instead of changing herself, Selina sat on the edge of the bed and watched me intently.

As I unbuttoned my shirt and removed it, I turned, "What?"

"Did you set it up?"

"Set what up? The robbery?" I asked while removing my undershirt and tossing it in the wicker hamper between the two dressers in the bedroom. I continued, "If I had, I would have certainly picked better gunmen. At least ones with an accent."

She shook her head at me, "You're unbelievable, you spent most of the night with a gun to your head, taunting a man that very well could have killed you and you're complaining because they didn't have accents?" When I sat beside her on the bed, she turned slightly and continued, "Well, I'll have to remember that for your fiftieth birthday party."

I stared at her for a moment before I found the ability to respond, "I knew I needed a reason to live."

She was quiet for a long time, staring intently at my chest. I was about to say something when she spoke first, "I saw you… Watching them. It was hard for you… Your brow kept twitching."

I nodded slightly, "But not as hard as I thought it was going to be. They… They did a good job."

She replied as she touched my lips, "Hmm. That little smirk of pride you had on your face said they did a great job… But accents be damned, you have to admit it was a pretty good birthday, for you anyway."

"We'll have to do better for when you turn forty-five."

One second later, I was lying on the floor, Selina digging her heel firmly into my carotid. She had knocked me over so suddenly that I wasn't sure if she was joking or if she was serious until replied, "Ever mention the fact that I am over the age of thirty again and we won't have to worry about arranging a fiftieth birthday party for you."

As she increased the pressure on my throat, I could only manage a weak croak, "Yes, dear."

^V^


	13. What Lies Ahead: XIII

Title: What Lies Ahead: XIII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: The Family is unsure how to react when Mattie gets in a fight at school… and wins.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: References made to Batman Year One.

^V^

Despite the fact that the Batman had not resided in Bristol for nearly three years, I had yet to grow accustomed to quiet, uneventful evenings.

An alarm was installed shortly after Master Bruce had begun his life of vigilante, in order to announce that he had arrived home, in one form or another. The tone still sounded whenever the Cave entrance was used, both by vehicle and the by way of the Grandfather clock. It was a simple faux clock charm that would normally signify the passing of the hour.

A sound that would bring me out of a dead sleep, despite its quiet, soft inflection.

In fact it was a rare occasion in itself that Master Timothy chose to visit the Bat-Cave after working his way through Gotham City, rooftop by rooftop. Generally, he visited by day, adding details to logs he had uploaded to the Crays the night before in addition to using the training areas alongside Miss Cassandra.

Nevertheless, I had never asked Master Timothy or Master Dick to remove the alarm that sounded in my quarters in addition to various locations within the Manor.

With the new Batman resign in Bryanttown, I had assumed that I would eventually be able to settle in for the night with ease, knowing that if anything did happen, those within the city limits would be able to come to the rescue. However, I found that I still waited for the soft chime to break the eerie silence of the pre-dawn hours. Old habits certainly died hard.

Most nights, I managed to fall asleep fairly early but then found myself rising at the very hour that Master Bruce would have returned, just after four in the morning. In place of fighting the fruitless battle of falling asleep once more, I had made a habit of tending to my journals as well as planning a schedule for the day.

But as I wrote out my usual Friday grocery list, I was shocked to hear the tone sound.

I glanced at my bedside alarm clock, not too surprised to see it was just four. Promptly, I left my desk, donning my housecoat and slippers before proceeding into the corridor. Taking the stairs briskly, it wasn't long before I was at the grandfather clock, adjusting the time to a little before eleven in order to unlock it.

Moving as silently as possible, I made my way down the granite steps uncertain as to whether Master Timothy had arrived in one piece.

Or whether it was Master Timothy at all.

When I spotted his motorcycle sitting near the neglected Batmobile, I sighed with relief before walking quietly to the computer bay. The lights in the dressing chamber were on, suggesting he was disrobing. I was about to return upstairs to retrieve refreshments when he emerged, dressed in jeans and a fitted midnight blue tee shirt.

"Oh, Alfred, I didn't wake you did I?"

"No rest for the weary, sir. I assure you that I have been awake for some time."

He nodded and proceeded to the chair that sat before the massive computer screen. As he seated himself, he questioned, "Is Bruce awake?"

I shook my head curtly, "I believe he is still in his quarters, sir… Is there something amiss?"

"What? Oh no. Just wondering."

As he booted the computer system up, I spotted a nasty bruise across his left bicep, complete with the red pin-prick spotting of a severe abrasion. When he caught me looking, he said, "Oh, it's nothing."

"Of course."

"Seriously, Alfred, it doesn't hurt at all."

"Naturally," I replied, my tone suggesting he let me inspect it.

He finally sighed, "If I can look for something first, you can check it over."

"I am humbled by your permission, Master Timothy."

He turned to face me, "Al, come on, I didn't mean it like that."

"Nor did I. I shall prepare the medical bay… Unless you are in need of refreshment?"

As he shook his head, Master Timothy returned his gaze to the screen, now showing a list of activities that the Oracle had already collected for him, "No, I'm all right."

When I left to turn the remaining overhead lights on in order to better illuminate the Cave, I heard Master Timothy, call out, "Hey Alfred? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, sir." I returned to standing beside him.

After taking a long breath, he continued, "When Bruce started out… How did he… Do you know how Gordon came to trust him?"

"I'm not entirely sure I am the appropriate person to be answering such a question, sir."

"I know, I know it's just that… I don't want to ask Bruce, I don't want him to think that... You know…"

"Indeed. Well, Master Bruce's first years as the Batman were far from successful. I recall at least a dozen bullet wounds, countless stabbings, many broken bones… Fortunately, you have not suffered in the same manner."

"Well, I did have few years already under my belt."

"Quite true, sir. But the defining moment came just at the close of his first year as Batman. Crooked officers had been sent to kidnap Mr. Gordon's infant son and Master Bruce, in plain clothes, had managed to save the child."

"Did Gordon know it was him?"

I nodded, "Yes, he did. And instead of arresting him, he had told Master Bruce to leave before the squad cars arrived."

Master Timothy paused and started typing quickly, "That's when the big up-turn took place, right? When Loeb resigned and the higher up cops were arrested and fired."

"Precisely."

He sighed and looked up at the screen. I glanced over as well, only to see that it was copy of the next morning's paper. How he had accessed it, I did not, nor wanted to know. On bottom left corner of the Gazette's front page, a bold headline announced a War on Crime, to be battled exclusively by the GCPD and the District Attorney's office.

Skimming the article, claims were being made by officials to drop the city's crime rate over the summer by at least five percent.

It also claimed this was to be done without the aide of masked men.

"War on crime… Bruce has been saying that for years. He should have had it copy written," Master Tim tried to put lightness in his voice but the joke fell through as he growled. "It's been almost three years, Alfred. I've tried every way to befriend Kelsey but… She's just so damned adamant that she can save this city on her own."

"To be fair, Master Timothy, she is simply upholding the law. Commissioner Gordon bended the law in order to allow for the Batman's existence. And from what we have all seen of the new commissioner's behavior, she is not quite willing to bend the law. Yet."

"Yet? More like ever… The DA, Bryce, he seems to be more than willing."

"Which is why he earned my vote as well as the majority of voters in this district, including Master Bruce if I'm not mistaken?"

"Really?"

I nodded, "He is nearly identical to Harvey Dent, both in his actions and his attitudes. And it was Mr. Dent who helped strengthen the alliance between Gordon and Master Bruce."

"Until he turned into Two-Face."

I paused, trying not to think back on how tragic that event had been. Master Bruce had lost not only an ally that dreadful day, but had gained a lethal enemy.

"But Gordon was willing, Alfred…"

Shaking my head, I corrected him, "Not at first. It took time and a great deal of effort on Master Bruce's part to prove he was a worthy ally..."

"I've proved my worth, Alfred… Damnit, I've done more in the last three years than she has."

"Of course, but not as a trustworthy ally."

His brow furred, "How's that?"

"I spoke out of turn, I meant no offense, sir, I assure you…"

"No, I wanted your opinion, Alfred. Please…"

"Perhaps you can no longer expect Commissioner Kelsey to conform to the ways of the past. Perhaps it is time for this new Batman to take a new approach at proving his importance to this city, and to her."

He was quiet for a very long moment.

And then finally, "Hey, Alfred, this is starting to burn some," he pointed to his arm, "Could you look at it quick for me?"

"But of course, sir."

^V^

Even though I had practiced my essay at least a million times I was still unable to keep from tapping my pencil on my desk as my fellow classmates presented their own assignments to the class. On Monday, we each had been asked to write about what our parents or guardians did for a living and whether or not we would want to have the same job when we grew up. When it was due on Friday, we each had to step up and read it aloud to the class. In the week that we had to work on it, I had written a paragraph about each of my parents and had edited it several times until I thought it was perfect. It had been one of the easiest assignments I had in third grade but some reason I couldn't help but worry about making it perfect.

And I didn't want my parents to read it, not until it was graded.

With only one week of classes left, most of my friends had put the assignment off until the night before it was due; their minds too busy planning summer adventures. Even though I had a busy summer ahead of soccer and horseback riding, I had managed to keep a level head during the school hours, even during recess.

"Who would like to go next?"

Terry, who sat at the desk beside mine, raised his hand and jumped up when Ms. Turner nodded at him. He held the single piece of paper in both hands as he walked to the front of the class. After clearing his throat he read, "My dad's name is Dr. Thomas Edmond Miller. He is a doctor of medieval history. That was when there were kings and knights in Europe. He does not give anyone medicine or shots, he just works with books. He has written three books and is working on another one, all about different countries during the Medieval time. I have not read any of his books, but they have cool pictures of battles in them. He also teaches classes about medieval history at Hudson University…"

He paused for a moment before continuing, "My mom was Andrea Chase-Miller. She was a therapist in Gotham City. She was a therapist when we lived in Ohio also. She helped people who were scared or in trouble or who needed someone to talk to. She was a good therapist because she helped many, many people. She… she died two years ago in an accident.

"When I grow up, I want to be a doctor, but not of medieval history. I want to be a regular doctor, even though I'll have to give shots to people."

Ms. Turner stood and patted Terry on the shoulder as she took his paper and I could tell she wasn't sure what to say. Eventually she spoke, "That was very nice, Terry."

"Thank you," he replied before returning to his seat.

I smiled at him, "Showoff… could you say medieval one more time?"

He snickered, "Probably..."

I rolled my eyes at him just as Ms. Turner asked for the next volunteer. Instead of raising my hand, I waited for five other students to go. Finally she said, "Well Mattie, looks like you're the last one."

I rose from my chair and walked up to stand in front of the white erase board. I took a deep breath before looking down at my own hand writing, "My parents are Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle. They are married but my mom didn't want to change her name. My dad runs many different businesses including Wayne Enterprises, Wayne Industries and Wayne Tech. He works almost everyday, most of the time at his office in Gotham City but sometimes he works from home. I've been to his office many times to visit him with my mom and my little brother. He also likes to buy properties and then sell them once they are fixed up."

When I glanced up, everyone seemed to be bored, which was exactly why I wrote about Mom last, "My mom runs a rehabilitation center for big cats called The Preserve. There are lions, cougars and tigers and there are also smaller cats like bobcats, ocelots and fisher cats. They come from zoos, circuses, live shows and are sometimes private pets of people who don't know how to take care of them. My mom works with veterinarians and trainers to help get all of the cats healthy and happy again. I like visiting my mom's work much more than my dad's work because I get to see all of the cats playing in their paddocks. That's why I want to have my mom's job when I grow up, so I can play with the big cats and make sure they are safe and happy for their whole lives."

When I looked up again, the class was staring at me, their eyes wide open. Ms. Turner complimented me and asked for my paper. As I sat down, Terry whispered, "Showoff."

Being Friday, Ms. Turner announced that there was no homework for the weekend but that we had to pick out four books for our summer reading assignments. The grade you were going into represented how many books were supposed to read over the summer. I always wondered if the juniors in high school actually read twelve books before coming in for their senior year.

I had already picked out my four books but we couldn't turn in our list until Monday. After two years of pleading, I had finally convinced my parents to buy the Harry Potter collection of books. All of my friends had already read them and seen the movies but I was light years behind when it came to the students at Hogwarts. I was going to read the first four as part of the summer reading assignments but then planned on reading the remaining books for myself.

As we were dismissed for lunch and recess, I joked with Terry, "You should read your dad's books this summer."

He laughed, "Yeah, okay… No, I think I'm going to try to read The Golden Compass and the two sequels… but I still need a fourth book. Maybe something by Stephen King."

I opened my locker and pulled out my lunch bag, watching as Terry did the same a few feet away, "I thought his books weren't on the list?"

"One of them is, The Secret Window. My sister has the movie and I watched it once, didn't seem too scary."

We met up with Katarina, Ashley and Piper just as we entered the cafeteria. Terry sat with the boys most of the time but every Friday he would sit with me, occasionally convincing one of his other friends to join him. Today, he came alone.

Since it was good weather, the lunch and recess blocks were combined so that as soon as we were done eating, we could head outside. We sat at a round table near the windows and proceeded to swap parts of our lunches amongst each other. Katarina's mom always gave her two cups of pudding, of which she gave one to me in exchange for my walnut brownie. Terry had a chicken salad sandwich in his cooled lunch bag of which I offered to trade with him my crunchy peanut butter and banana sandwich. Once we had settled, we ate quickly, wanting nothing more than to get outside before someone claimed all of the soccer balls.

Luckily, we managed to grab the last one before heading out to the soccer field. There was already a group of fifth graders playing with the nearest goal so we jogged over and claimed the far goal. On the way, four other girls from our class had followed us, asking to play as well. We decided that since Terry was the only boy he would be in the goal and the rest of us would take turns shooting.

After ten minutes of six on one, I spotted two other boys approaching, and I thought they had come to save him or to convince him to play kickball with them on the baseball field. But as they came closer, I recognized the pudgy faces of the Niedzlkowski twins, Ian and Blane. They weren't exactly bullies but they were well on their way. I remembered they had taunted me in first grade because of my family was wealthy. But then again so was theirs.

They also teased Terry relentlessly for having me as one of his best friends.

"I didn't know it was girl's soccer practice today," Blane laughed out loud.

Ian, who was twelve minutes younger, nodded in agreement.

They remained on the sidelines, commenting on how bad we were at soccer, especially the goalie. We kept playing, ignoring them just as we always did. Usually, they would leave us alone but there was something about them that made me think that wouldn't be the case that time. Terry caught the ball on one shot and Blane laughed, "Hope _she_ didn't break a nail."

Instead of tossing the ball back on the field, Terry drop kicked it and watched as it landed on Ian's head. We tried not to laugh as the twins ran over, "What do you think you're doing?"

Terry shrugged, "Sorry, must be my aim is off. I was trying to hit Blane."

Blane lurched forward at Terry but I stepped between them, "Why don't you go play Pick Your Nose or something."

"Sure," he snarled, "Right after I play Punch Your Boyfriend in the Face."

I hated it when they called him my boyfriend. He was a friend that was a boy, not the other way around. I scowled at him but had nothing to say. As much as my father told me to settle arguments with my words, I very much wanted to hit the twin idiots. Hard.

Terry stepped up beside me, "Let's keep playing, Mattie, forget these losers."

"Losers?" Ian asked, "You're the loser, Terrance!" he snapped, shoving Terry in the chest.

Blane then shoved him as well, "Yeah!"

"Stop it," Katarina growled, "I'm going to get Ms. Turner."

"Always a tattle tale…" Blane snickered to his brother.

They turned to leave, and I let out the breath I had been holding in my chest. It made me so angry that they tried to cause fights over nothing, simply because they could.

As we tried to return to our soccer game, Ian called over his shoulder, "Hey Terry, you forgot to put something in your essay. Your mom's new job… feeding the worms in the cemetery!"

That was it.

Terry ran at them, his brown deep with anger. But odds were already two against one and the twins had been waiting for him. As Terry neared them, Blane and Ian began to run at him as well, colliding in unison in order to shove Terry to the ground. I heard chants of "Fight! Fight!" as the twins began kicking Terry, but I did my best to ignore them, to block everything else out, everything that didn't matter. Cassandra had taught me that in order to focus during chaos, you had to be tranquil.

And I was very calm as I threw a roundhouse kick at Blane's side, sending him to the ground so fast he had already landed and bounced before he even began to cry out.

Shocked that a girl had taken out his brother, Ian swung at me but I blocked it without effort before very calmly punching him twice in the stomach and once in the face.

^V^

For years my father was late for any of the lunch dates I made with him.

Then again, for years, he was trying to bring order to a city that redefined crime ridden.

Dick had called a little after eleven asking if I wanted to join him, Dad and Will for lunch and I was quick to reply, "Of course… you're buying."

We met at a fairly new deli about ten blocks from when my father and my husband played super sleuths. It had become a fairly custom practice to eat lunch together at least once a week. And since Frank, my furry adopted canine brother, was a regular at the office, we often ate where there was outdoor seating so that he also could go out for lunch.

The new one had yet to understand who my father was, of which I blamed on the fact that it was owned by Hudson University and run by students. Nearly any other establishment not only recognized him by name but spotted him waiting at the door. And they were all more than welcome to let Frank in, and even offered to get him his own plate of food.

When I arrived, I paused at the hostess stand and said, "Hi, I believe my party's already here, it should be under Grayson?"

The blonde tween snapped her gum as she scanned the list, "Oh yeah, party of four, outdoor seating." She offered to show me but I assured her I could find my way. I was also fairly certain if I had to listen to smacking any longer than necessary I would forcibly remove her gum.

There were only six tables on the outdoor patio and I found ours immediately. Partly because Dick waved and partly because I heard Frank gargling. As I approached, Dad smiled, "They finally warmed up to the idea of having a French patron."

As I moved to be in between Dad and Dick, I looked over at Frank as he stood on his hind feet, his front paws resting gently on my father's thigh. He quickly looked at me, sneezed and then resumed begging from Dad.

I smirked and reached down to scratch his wrinkly head, "Who could resist that adorable face…"

Dick smirked, "Adorable… like a used tire."

It wasn't long before a very young and very tan man dressed in all white appeared to take our drink orders. It was water all around with exception to Dad who wanted an iced tea. Alone again, I asked, "Busy day?"

The three of them shrugged and Frank grumbled.

"I see."

"I changed the ink cartridge in the printer," Dick said.

Before I could comment, Will spoke up, "I changed the ink cartridge. You watched."

"It was a team effort," Dad commented.

I laughed loudly, covering my mouth to silence myself as the waiter returned with our drinks and a basket of breadsticks, all too eager to take our meal orders. I had yet to look at a menu and decided to follow Dick's lead: Turkey Club on wheat with a side of fruit salad and grilled potato wedges.

With nearly every table filled at the restaurant, I had a hunch we wouldn't see our white-garbed waiter for a while.

"Oh, something did happen today," Dick declared while squeezing his lemon wedge into his water, "Tim dropped by for a while."

"Oh, what's he up to?" I asked.

"He's looking for a job, actually. But this time, he figured he'd look for something inside the family."

Will looked up, marginally confused, "Wait, I thought you said he was a neighbor?"

"Well, he's like family. Like a little step-brother you like to beat up," Dick clarified.

"Too bad you hired Will already," Dad commented feeding a half of a breadstick to Frank.

"Oh, thanks, Jim," Will smirked before he drank.

"Anytime."

"What did Tim have in mind?" I asked.

Dick shrugged, "Well, he was thinking more along the lines of some of the more technical work, computer software, security system programming. And given that the guy was born with a keyboard in his hands, I'd have to say it's not a bad idea. You'd get along great with him Will, regular old bunch of nerds the two of you."

"Just because I can fill a printer with ink doesn't make me a nerd, Dick."

I intervened, "No, Will, it's the fact that Dick can't, makes him a dumbass."

Dick paused, then said, "Hey, I didn't invite you to lunch to pick on me, I could have just gone home and had a bologna sandwich and gotten that sort of treatment…"

I patted his knee, "I'm sorry. You're not a dumbass."

"Thank you."

"You're just dumb."

He glowered at me but when I blew him a kiss, he sighed, "See why I like to work late, Will? I have to go home to this…" I clinched my fingernails on his kneecaps and he jumped, "This charming, attractive, brilliant woman."

Surprisingly, our meal came fairly quickly. After a few silent moments, Dick said, "So what do you two think, should we let Tim in on the fun?"

"Might as well," Dad said after wiping his moustache clean. "More the merrier right?"

"Something like that…" Will commented.

"Besides, he's not a bad looking kid, maybe we can make some commercials, get some promotional work out of him. And our website could use a facelift," Dick said, his face all too serious.

"Well, damn, I should have left the printer be, could have had him take care of it as a working interview," Will laughed.

"Oh shut up… Don't make me fire you… But I think we should interview Tim somehow, make him all nervous," Dick suggested.

Will snorted, "Are you kidding? That was the easiest interview of my life."

"No... we made it pretty difficult… didn't we?" Dick asked my father.

Dad shrugged, "Actually, he was pretty much hired when he walked through the door. Mostly because of his name."

Will laughed as Dick denied, "No, he had a very impressive résumé… The name really didn't seal the deal… more like the frosting on the cake."

Looking over at my husband, I smiled, "So how is it that you decided to hire Will, a perfect stranger, instantly and couldn't ask me to marry you for, oh I don't know, a decade?"

The table went quiet as Dick stammered, "Well, I… you… he didn't... I love you?"

^V^

"Bruce?"

Lying on the couch on the far wall, I peeked out from under a leather pillow to see Miranda, my assistant, entering my office, "He's not here."

She smirked as she asked, "Do you need more Excedrin?"

"No, I think a million milligrams should do for now."

"Did you eat anything?"

I spoke quietly, "No… I just need to lie here for a few days, then I'll be fine."

She walked over briskly, "Okay… Oh, while I was at lunch you had two calls. Selina left a message that she was going to be home late and to have dinner without her and Nathan."

"And the second?"

"A message from the principal's assistant at Mattie's school, she said for you to call back as soon as possible."

Despite the migraine I had been doing battle with for the last six hours, I shot up and quickly made my way to my desk, "Did they say if something happened to Mattie?"

"It didn't sound like an emergency; it sounded more as if the principal wanted to speak with you."

My pulse had already been throbbing at my temples but it had spread to cause a thumping at my throat that sent my blood racing. I dialed the long since memorized digits and waited impatiently as I was greeted by a recording, "Welcome to the Bristol Elementary School's Directory. If you would like to speak with Principal Ellen Hampton, press o---."

I firmly pressed one, completely ignoring Miranda as she excused herself.

After three very long, torturous rings, a smooth, female voice answered, "Principal Hampton's office."

"Yes, this is Bruce Wayne; I had received a message at work asking to call as soon as possible." It took every ounce of strength to keep from growling.

"Ah yes, Mr. Wayne, I'll transfer your call---."

"I need to know, did something happen to my daughter, did she have an asthma attack, did she---."

"Mr. Wayne, she is fine, please, let me have Principal Hampton speak with you."

I let out a deep breath and waited as the line was reconnected. If she was fine, if nothing had happened then why…

"This is Ellen Hampton. Thank you for returning my call so quickly, Mr. Wayne."

"Of course… Although I have to admit I'm not entirely sure why you've called."

She paused for a moment, "I'm afraid there has been a bit of an incident here at the school. Mattie is fine but she needs to be taken home as soon as possible."

"Has school been let out early?"

"No… Mr. Wayne, I know we have never had any problems with Mattie in the past, she is in fact one of the most well-behaved students we have here… but she was involved in a physical altercation during recess and as part of our---."

"A fight?"

"Yes, sir. And due to our strong anti-violence policy, any student involved in a fight is suspended for two school days, at least on the first offense."

Confused, I replied, "You must be mistaken, Mattie wouldn't be involved in a fight."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne, but she was witnessed by two teachers and an aide kicking and punching two other students. I can assure you that she did not instigate the fight, but she certainly finished it."

I vaguely remember saying that I would be there within a half of an hour before thanking her for some reason. After I hung up, I donned my suit coat and went about shutting down my computer and gathering my things. When I breezed out into the lobby a moment later, Miranda looked up from the latest issue of Cosmo, the same issue that was on Selina's bedside table.

"Is something wrong?"

"I… I'm going home for the day. If anything major comes up, send it to Fox…"

"Of course. Oh… I hope you feel better, Bruce!" she called out as I stepped into the elevator.

I nodded but was too occupied to reply verbally.

The drive to Bristol took much less time than it should have. I parked, poorly, in a spot reserved for visitors in the front of the school before briskly walking to the main entrance. I spotted an overhead sign that said the main office was to the left. The walls of the main lobby were decorated with life-sized paper cut outs of what appeared to be kindergartners, each colored haphazardly. I would have reflected on a similar project that Mattie had done but my brain wouldn't allow it.

I passed through an open doorway into a large reception area. A young woman at the first desk in sight stood and greeted me, "Mr. Wayne?"

"Yes, I'm here to see Principal Hampton."

"Right this way," she led me down a narrow corridor, passing several closed wooden doors labeled Assistant Principal, Head Counselor, Suspension…

Principal Hampton's door opened just as we approached and a small freckled boy with red hair was being guided out. Ellen Hampton, a woman I had met on several occasions at school events and soccer games followed him out. She was a petite woman with a soft voice that hardly suggested her authoritative position. She smiled down at the child and said, "Now, I want you to get back to art class and apologize for gluing your hands to Jason's art project."

"Yes, Mrs. Hampton," the boy muttered as he trudged by.

Her hazel eyes found mine and she smiled, "Mr. Wayne, thank you for coming so quickly," she glanced over my suit, of which most likely was equivalent to her monthly salary, "Please, come into my office. Jennifer?"

The receptionist looked at her, and I suddenly realized she had been intently staring at my backside, "Yes?"

"Please help Mattie get her things from her locker. We'll be out shortly."

I followed her in, unable to avert my eyes from customarily glancing around the room. It had been a constant practice of mine, drilled into my mind from my earliest years of vigilantism. Instead of looking for possible escape routes and hiding places, all I managed to locate were silver framed photographs hanging on the walls and plush, faux leather furniture.

"Please, have a seat." Once I had done so, she continued, "As I said on the phone, Mattie was not responsible for the fight. One of her friends was being taunted by two other classmates and when things got out of hand they started fighting… Mattie intervened just as the teachers on the playground spotted what was going on. The three other boys involved---."

"Boys?"

"Yes, three of her classmates have also been suspended for the same period of time, including Terrance Miller, who was the student being teased."

I nodded, suddenly realizing that Mattie had acted in honor of her friendship, not to show off her newly found skills. I had suspected there had to have been something underlying that had to have caused Mattie to act in such a way, and thinking of her close bond with the young, black-haired boy, I sighed with near relief.

"I must ask, Mr. Wayne…"

"Please, Bruce."

"Bruce… is Mattie involved with karate lessons?"

I was about to say no, but then found myself saying, "She has been taught some self-defense skills from a family friend. But she has never been encouraged to practice them away from home."

Hampton nodded, "I see… I only ask because… she seemed to know what she was doing," she paused briefly before continuing, "Her suspension begins Monday. She can come back to school on Wednesday morning. Each of the students involved has been assigned to write letters of apology to those they harmed. They also have been asked to write an essay on why they shouldn't use violence to solve problems."

"I understand. She will certainly have them completed by the time she returns."

Hampton stood, smoother out her purple, silk skirt and continued, "I apologize for having to go through these motions with her but rules are rules, even for model students."

"Of course."

Before she could make the meeting any more awkward than it already was, a tone sounded followed by Jennifer's voice, "Mattie is ready in the office."

"Thank you, tell her that her father will be right out," then to me, "Again, thank you for coming on such short notice. If either you or Selina have any questions, please feel free to call."

She showed me the way back to the reception area and I found Mattie sitting in a chair, her back to me, swinging her legs back and forth. I walked up behind her and gently set a hand on her shoulder, "Ready, kitten?"

Mattie glanced up quickly, no doubt confused at how my voice showed no sign of anger. She stood, glanced up at Principal Hampton and then back at me, "Okay."

The drive from the school to the Manor was on average eight minutes.

The silence and the reason for the silence on the ride home made it seem endless.

^V^

"She what?!" Tim cried out as he nearly took my head off with his much neglected bo staff.

"Yeah, Bruce called Cassandra and told her. I guess her friend was getting beat up by two other kids and Mattie clobbered them. She even knocked one to the ground with just one kick," I replied after dodging it and diving into his midsection. We tumbled together and my fingers shot out to pinch his wrist, forcing him to let the plastic staff fly away. Before I could throw a jab at his throat, he untangled himself and kneed me in the side.

"Cass said she was good," he replied, jumping just as I swung my legs around to take him out again, "I didn't realize she was that good."

As he landed, I somersaulted into his legs, tackling him as he fell. With an arm securely around his throat, "Well, look at the girl's genetics. She was born to kick ass and take names."

Tim head butted me and tried to free himself but I quickly tightened my hold.

We had been sparring for the better part of an hour, choosing to beat each other in place of routine exercise. I had to admit it; I much preferred roughing up Tim rather than lifting weights and punching a sand bag.

He made a choking sound and I momentarily eased the pressure at his throat. It had been a ploy of course but I still fell for it. His second head butt landed squarely with my chin and as my head reeled back, he slammed both of his elbows into my sides, jarring my kidneys.

Tim leapt up and threw a nasty kick that would have taken out my nose had I not lunged down and forward, forcing my fist into the side of his knee. After he buckled and fell, I tried to take a hold of him once more, but he evaded my grasp and flipped back onto his feet.

I remained kneeling on the floor, sweaty, blood running from my lip and began to laugh out loud, "Maybe we should stop fighting each other and invite Mattie over, have her teach us a thing or two."

Tim smirked as well and stepped forward, offering me a hand up. As our hands wrapped around each others' wrists, I leapt to my feet and firmly planted my other hand on Tim's abdomen, using my lower center of gravity to send Tim flying over my head.

He landed with a pronounced thud, but I distinctly heard him say, "Oh, crap," while he was in mid-air. When he jumped to his feet again, the left side of his face was bright pink with mat burn. He glared at me from under his sweaty bangs, "You're dead."

Just before he tackled me, Barbara's voice came from the doorway of the training room, "It's no wonder Mattie's fighting at school, look at her role models."

We both looked up to see her shaking her head in disgust.

She continued, "If two can take a break from bloodying each other, I have the new comm. link transmitters for your suits."

"Sweet," I whispered as I turned to leave the room. When I went to step with my right foot, I felt Tim's hand encircling my ankle, thus leading me to trip and nearly fall flat on my face.

Nearly.

As I prepared to retaliate, Barbara snapped, "Richard!"

After a forced sigh, I said, "Coming, dear."

We sat around a small work table in the secure wing of the apartment where Oracle kept track of us at night. We watched on as she removed the outdated and poor performing transmitter chips from both mine and Batman's masks before securing the new ones.

As he sat, staring at the tabletop, Tim suddenly spoke up, "I'm going to the Commissioner tonight."

"Need back up?"

"Hopefully not. I think it will go better if I'm alone."

I nodded, "Yeah I saw that article in the paper. War on crime is totally our slogan, not hers."

Tim smirked to himself before continuing, "Right… Anyway, I've been thinking about this whole Kelsey thing wrong all this time. I've kept trying to make her be like Gordon but I realized that she never will be."

I chided, "Good point, she would totally be ugly with a moustache anyway."

He shook his head at me, no doubt marveled with how Barbara survived living with my brilliant albeit cheesy wit all of the time. After a beat, he continued, "Seriously though… I can't believe it's taken me this long to realize it…"

Barbara smirked and when Tim asked what was so funny, she looked up at me and I nodded. She sighed, "You talked to Alfred, didn't you?"

"How do you know?" he asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

I shrugged as I picked at the cut in my lower lip, "Any great revelation always leads back to Alfred. It's practically common knowledge."

Tim smirked again, "I suppose you're right."

"How are you going to play it? You're not going to show up at her house or anything are you?"

Snickering, Tim shook his head and picked at the scabbed over abrasion that covered most of his left arm. The one night I had opted to check things out in the Haven and he had gotten to ride a runaway van that he eventually jumped from, landing gently on Trenton Avenue. When I had met up with earlier in the day after lunch, I asked how many time he had bounced.

He had grumbled, "Twice."

We watched silently as Barbara went to work with her micro tools. After five minutes, she looked up at us from over the rim of her glasses, "Uh, guys? Do you mind?"

Dick said, "Sorry… Oh, So I talked to Jim."

"And?"

I nodded, "I think we can work something out. I didn't realize how much there was to do until after Will started working with us… Even with the three of us we're still pretty damn busy. Might be nice to have an extra set of hands, you know… to get coffee and stuff."

"Coffee, right," Tim nodded, doing his best to look serious. "Do I get my own desk?"

"I was thinking your own broom closet."

"Even better, my own office," again he feigned being dramatic.

But the mat burn on his face had turned bright red and I couldn't help but laugh at him.

^V^

When I had called Bruce a little after noon, I knew I wouldn't see him until well after seven that evening. Nathan had a mid-morning annual physical that had prevented me from reaching the Preserve until 11:30. Barbara had offered to take him for the day but I had promised him that I would take him to the Preserve that week. And since Friday involved the vet coming to treat several of the animals, I figured Nathan could pet a few of them while they were under anesthesia.

After a busy afternoon of overseeing several dental repairs as well as an ultrasound of a possibly impregnated bobcat, we finally reached the leopard cubs for their routine check up. Since they were still fairly young and more playful than harmful, they were restrained by the technician as their vitals were taken. I sat in a chair with Nathan on my lap, watching him as he looked on intently. He had giggled incessantly when he was able to sit on the exam table with a big, male cougar named Apollo, playing with his fur tipped tail just as if it had been Taffy at home.

"Kitty!" he cried out.

I kissed his smooth black hair and said, "Big kitties… They're getting check ups, just like you did."

He grinned up at me, "Ped the kitty?"

"No, you can't pet these kitties, hon. They're not sleeping like the other ones."

Dr. Corbin, a zoologist of nearly twenty years, roughed the hair of the smaller, female cub, "They look to be in perfect health… and very sociable considering how little they were handled before being weaned."

I smiled, "Their mom did a good job. Shame we had to take them away, though."

Their mother, one of the most recent additions to the Preserve, had caringly loved for her cubs but could not maintain a healthy weight while she nursed them. At little over one month of age, we were forced to intervene and remove them from her den while she had been restrained in an indoor pen. She had mourned their loss for nearly a month before finally making a progressive and steady weight gain.

"Well, I' won't be able to get back here until the first week in July, so I'll write a script for that Siberian for three weeks instead of two… If that abcess gets any worse, I can send someone from the zoo to come check it out but those meds should help things along."

"Thank you, so much," I stood, keeping Nathan in my arms. As I shook hands with the veterinarian, he leaned forward, trying to reach out to the cubs that were being led out of the exam room. She commented that he seemed all too eager to help out and I laughed,

"When he's older… and stops pulling on their whiskers."

Before heading out, I washed Nathan up and then proceeded to try and tame my hair. I was tempted to cut it before summer was in full force but was unsure as to how I would maintain my composure seeing my black curls on the floor of a salon. I had actually spoken to Bruce about it, if he would join me for a day at a spa. When I suggested he get his hair dyed, he said, "Only if you do."

I had promptly called him a prick and uninvited him to my spa day and in order to invite Barbara instead.

On the way home, I had stopped at a nice little Italian place so that we could eat before the commute home. Partly because I was famished and also to help induce slumber in a child who had been nap-free all day. We shared a plate of ravioli and a slice of cheesecake, both of which Nathan surprisingly did not get all over his clothes. On the way out, I decided to buy an entire cheesecake to take home and received a big smile from the older woman behind the counter.

We hadn't been on the road for more than ten minutes before Nathan was snoring from the backseat. I was tempted to give Bruce a call to see how the rest of his day had gone but chose instead to turn the radio on at a very low volume. Bruce had woken a little before six that morning, loudly getting out of bed before shuffling into the bathroom. I had waited fifteen minutes before rising myself, following his path in the darkened bedroom.

The door was ajar but the lights were off, "Bruce, you all right?"

"Fine…"

As convincing his meager croak had been, I stepped into the room anyway and found him sitting on the floor, back to the bathtub with a wet washcloth over his brow. Over the years, I had seen him in a number of states of infirm, but usually it was related to something practical, such as gunshot wounds.

I had sat beside him for another half hour in the dark, cool bathroom, rewetting the washcloth and rubbing the back of his neck. Surprisingly, he had not tried to brush away my efforts and seemed to genuinely appreciate them. I figured he must have been on his death bed. But his true colors came through when he rose at quarter of seven in order to shower and get ready for work despite the fact that every nuance of a sound and every ounce of light pierced his skull.

When we arrived home shortly before eight, Nathan was still sound asleep. After throwing my purse over my shoulder and hooking my arm through the paper bag holding the cake, I undid his car seat and carried him into the house. I opted for the front door instead of the service entrance that opened into the kitchen. Although dinner had been nearly two hours earlier, I detected a faint hint of garlic looming through the house, followed by the aroma of lamb chops.

"Looks like we missed out, kiddo," I whispered into my son's hair.

Puzzled at the eerie silence of the house, I made my way to the kitchen. No sign of Alfred, I dropped the cake off on the counter top as well as my purse. No doubt by the time I returned from taking Nathan upstairs, he would appear and have placed the treat on a crystal serving plate.

When I returned to the hall, I heard footsteps coming from the study. Bruce rounded the corner just as I neared the staircase and I motioned him to be quiet. He nodded and approached me, carefully taking Nathan from my arms. Before turning towards the stairs, he kissed my cheek and said, "I'll be back down."

I kissed him back, "I'll be in the den."

While he changed and put Nathan to bed, I cut two slices of raspberry cheesecake and grabbed a bottle of Grolsch from the kitchen's refrigerator. I was in the den by for nearly fifteen minutes before Bruce returned. As he sat down on the couch beside me, I handed him his cheesecake, "Is that a baby monitor in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

He smirked and retrieved the small radio from his pocket and set it on the end table, "He might wake up, figured it wouldn't hurt."

"Are you feeling any better?"

Bruce nodded, "Somewhat."

"Where's the other one?" I asked, taking a bite.

He sighed heavily, "Upstairs, reading."

"We'll have to remember to bring her some cheesecake," I said before opening the glass bottle and taking a sip. Something happened to Bruce's face that made me ask, "What?"

"I had planned on calling you earlier…"

"Bruce?" a growl emerged from my throat.

"During recess today, Terry was being harassed by two other boys… They started to fight and Mattie… Mattie stepped in and…"

I nearly dropped my dessert plate, "Is she all right?"

He nodded and then shook his head, "She beat up the two other boys. Everyone involved in the fight was suspended for two days from school…"

"She… beat them up?" I asked.

Bruce looked into my eyes, "I know, I should have called you earlier, but I didn't want you to worry."

"Worry? My little girl beat up two bullies? Hell, she can have the entire cheesecake." His left eyebrow rose and I patted his arm, "I'm kidding, only half of it… I take it you talked to her about how violence isn't the answer?"

"No, I… I didn't tell her she was wrong because… I can't lie to her; I can't tell her that taking a physical stance against someone is wrong when I've… spent most of my life doing the exact same thing."

I reached over and set my hand on his forearm, "Please don't tell me you want me to talk to her." He smirked at me and returned his focus to his dessert. Before I did the same, I continued, "Although, it's almost time you talked to her about something else."

"What's that?" he said after licking his fork clean.

"Why, the birds and the bees."

He choked suddenly, coughed hard twice and then motioned for me to hand him the beer. I laughed uncontrollably as he drank more than half of it in one big swallow before he managed, "I'll make you a deal. You talk to Mattie. I'll talk to Nathan."

"Counter offer, Mr. Wayne, you talk to both of them and I'll give you a refresher course upstairs in an hour."

He emptied the bottle before responding, "Deal."

^V^


	14. What Lies Ahead: XIV

Title: What Lies Ahead: XIV

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: The Family celebrates Nathan's second birthday and Tim must fulfill his superhero duties.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: There is an event referenced that is influenced by the ending of Batman Begins. Also, the Man-Hole scene is based on that from The OC episode "The Distance".

^V^

It was a beautiful mid-July day, slightly cloudy, just over seventy-five degrees with the slightest breeze coming in from the north. Given that the last week had been nothing but thunderstorms, excessively high humidity and nearly triple-digit temperatures, it was a much needed relief from Mother Nature. And it was also a perfect day to celebrate the second birthday of Jonathan Thomas Wayne.

When I had mentioned having a birthday party back in April, Bruce had been surprisingly calm. I had asked why and he had been quick to reply, "At this age, it's for family. It won't be long before it's for the devious offspring of others."

As co-party coordinator, Mattie helped me for a majority of the day, blowing up balloons and arranging decorations on the stone patio that emerged from the rear of Wayne Manor. As the only soul not involved with the preparations, Bruce gladly chose to watch Nathan for the day, of which he had spent a majority of outside playing the side yard. I remembered distinctly hearing high pitched giggles as I had looped colored paper through the wrought iron railings. When I sent Mattie to investigate, she had taken nearly a half of an hour to return.

She reported back, covered in dirt and grass clippings, that Nathan and her father had been playing soccer.

We all gathered for lunch, a fairly light meal considering dinner would be a much greater production. Alfred had even joined us briefly with his midday tea and toast. From there, Bruce had taken Nathan in for a nap and had spent the remainder of the afternoon with his daughter upstairs, helping her work on her summer reading assignment.

Finally alone, Alfred and I returned to our scheming.

Less than twenty minutes before the guests arrived, Bruce walked in on us in the breakfast nook. "What are you two up to?" he had asked, of which had caused both of us to jump. Nearly three years out of the cowl and he still was more than capable of the infamous silent entrance.

I glanced over at Alfred quickly before rising and approaching Bruce, wrapping my arms around his neck while kissing his cheek. He had shaved recently and my lips were met with smooth skin that tasted of aftershave lotion. Instead of kissing my cheek in response, Bruce tried to look over my shoulder to catch a glimpse at Alfred.

Before he could repeat his question, I replied, "Oh, we were just figuring out some things we need for the kitchen."

"Things?" Bruce asked.

"Supplies, Master Bruce," Alfred clarified after having put away our lists and catalogs.

"And it takes two of you to accomplish this?"

Before I could make up an excuse, Alfred spoke steadily, "In light of my age, sir, I fear I may forget something vital."

He repeated, "Something vital."

"Coffee," I shrugged, "Eggs. Milk. Organic wheat bread." The Bat-glare was in full force, but somehow I managed to continue with a straight face, "Is there anything you would like to add, dear?"

Bruce slipped out of my hold, stared at both of us before grunting, "The expense checkbook is on my desk," and leaving us alone.

I returned to sit beside Alfred and sighed, "Close call."

"Indeed."

Entirely on his own, Bruce had the kids washed up and changed just as Jim, Frank, Dick and Barbara arrived with enormous helium filled Winnie the Pooh, Tigger and Piglet balloons. I stood by the in-laid grill helping Alfred prepare grilled salmon, lamb chops and asparagus. Having already aided him in preparing pineapple and mango salsa, Cobb Salad with a lemon-coconut roulade for dessert, we had spent nearly three hours total alone since he had woke me a little after seven that morning.

Nearly enough time to conclude our week long efforts.

As Dick promptly kidnapped Nathan in order to play "Superman", Barbara made her way over, "That smells absolutely heavenly, Alfred."

"I do my best, madam," he replied while fighting back a smile.

The delightful, uncontrollable laughter of the birthday boy interrupted us and I couldn't help but look over. Dick had taken to wrestling on the lawn with Nathan and seemed to be losing to the two-year-old. Mattie suddenly ran down the steps in order to join in on the sibling onslaught.

As we all looked on, I heard a voice from the French doors, "Someone should give him a hand."

I glanced over to Tim as he appeared, "Be my guest."

Tim approached the rail, watched for a moment then shook his head, "He's a goner."

Cassandra, who had been mere steps behind him, leaned against the rail before also observing the tickle-heavy attack below. She then promptly jabbed at Tim's side before saying, "So much for the Dark Knight."

He snickered, "That down there requires the intervention of the original, not his predecessor."

From the other end of the stone patio, Bruce, who had been talking with Jim, paused mid-sentence as if he had overheard us. And knowing him, he most likely had.

While Alfred retreated to the kitchen for a few final touches on the serving plates, I had Mattie take drink orders. In order to hopefully be able to calm Nathan before sitting down to dinner, I retrieved him from Dick's grasp. As I sat beside Bruce, Nathan promptly crawled off of my lap and onto his father's, "Daddy um hun-gwee."

"Hang in there, tiger," Bruce whispered into his hair.

Where Bruce had always referred to Mattie affectionately as "kitten" I had noticed it had taken considerably longer to decide upon a specific nickname for his son. I had caught him calling him "chum" on more than one occasion and had promptly said that referring to my child as a type of fishing bait was unacceptable. When he had asked what was wrong with it, I had told him, "Fine, every time you call him that, I will be certain to correct him when he says 'Daddy' by reminding him that he should say 'Asshat'."

From then on, it had been "tiger."

Mattie, alongside Alfred, appeared with the accurately filled drink orders. Water and milk for the heroes on duty, water and white wine for those who had that night off, in addition to many more. A stern look from Bruce had urged Dick and Tim to return to the kitchen to aide Alfred in bringing out dinner. As everyone sat, I noticed that the sun had begun to dip behind the tree line of the rear of the property. Mattie gladly offered to run inside to turn on the patio lights, but when she returned with her arms full of party hats, I realized her alternative motive. She handed them out, trying her best to color coordinate with the shirts of the guests. She even tried to get a blue one on Frank's flat head so that it matched his nylon collar.

She had three left over and after selecting the purple sparkly one for herself, she looked over at me, "Mom, is Leslie coming?"

I shrugged as I tousled her hair, "She said she would try to make it for dinner, but if not she would definitely be up for dessert."

I watched on as my daughter placed the pale pink hat on the seat of an empty chair before handing the bright yellow hat to her father, "Sorry, Dad, it's the only one left."

Bruce proceeded to stare at the ungodly headwear and when he failed to don it in an appropriate amount of time, Mattie took it back, bringing a moment of relief to Bruce's eyes. Of which dissimilated when Mattie said, "Here, Dad, let me do it."

A brutal snap of an elastic band on Bruce's freshly shaven skin later, and it was party time.

^V^

After dinner at Wayne Manor, we had stayed to watch on as Nathan opened his gifts. Apart from the standard collection of toys, clothes and books, Nathan had also received a "big boy" full sized bed from his parents, of which I could already see the hours of bouncing and jumping to come. After opening mine and Tim's Crafty Tool Toddler Work Bench, Nathan wanted to do nothing but hit people's knees with the big plastic red hammer.

Our cue to leave.

I had driven back while Tim worked on programming his new satellite radio console. Before we had made it back to Bryanttown, he had already filled up the twenty favorite artist memory recall list, mostly with his favorite eighties songs that I still didn't understand. Wham! seemed more like a cheesy sixties TV show sound effect rather than a band's name.

It wasn't long before we suited up and headed out for the night. I took the docks to keep up on some surveillance we had been performing on a new string of drug dealers under the working title of the Jedis. I had joked after discovering their name on how pathetic criminals were becoming and Dick and Tim had replied in unison over the comm. link, "What's so lame about being a Jedi?"

At a little after two in the morning, I was just about to call in to Oracle to check in only to be summoned first by Batman's growl, "Red Alert, multiple fires on Trevor Street!"

We didn't return from patrols until a little after four-thirty in the morning, smelling of smoke that even a thirty minute long shower couldn't wash away. A gas main had ignited in a residential block in the Bowery, setting flame to a number of ten story apartment and low-income residence buildings. Combining our efforts with those of nearly seventy firefighters, we had managed to retrieve all of the occupants, of which totaled to ninety-two men, women and children.

Excluding the fourteen casualties.

After I had showered and changed, I found Tim had done the same and was sitting downstairs in the den with the lights off rather than in the bedroom. His intermittent coughing had allowed me to locate him, which fortunately made the task much easier than searching each room of the townhouse.

Before joining him, I grabbed two bottles of water out of the fridge, but when I made a move to turn the lights on he had rasped, "No, don't."

Tim had been without his re-breather for nearly thirty minutes towards the end of the rescue, having given his own and his backup units to two children that had been amongst the last victims. Before returning home, I had asked if he wanted to go see Leslie but he had curtly replied "I'm fine" in true Batman form.

As I sat beside him, it wasn't hard to see his brow, furrowed in frustration, even in the dark. Instead of handing him his water, I simply set it on the coffee table between his propped feet. I had downed half of my own bottle before he finally reached for his.

"Some night," I said quietly.

He nodded in agreement but offered no verbal response.

"I can't remember the last time we played firefighters."

Tim cleared his throat, of which did nothing to improve his voice, "Firefly."

"What?"

He added, "The winter before Bruce stepped down."

I smiled, despite the fact that it was an improper response to any situation involving a criminal such as Firefly. Tim caught my smirk and when he asked what was so funny, I replied, "Remember, that night? Before the fire?"

Tim paused and then I watched on as he also began to smile, "I still won't help Bruce decorate the Manor for Christmas." He chuckled, coughed, then took a slow drag from his water bottle.

I leaned against him, happy to see him welcome the contact as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. He rasped something and when I asked him to repeat it, he did, "Good times."

"Good times," I agreed.

"Kelsey was there."

"At the fire? Why?"

He shrugged, "Probably thought less than law abiding intentions were behind the fires."

"Ever the optimist," I replied.

"Hey," he rasped, "At least she's playing nice now."

I smirked thinking on how there had finally been positive progress in developing a relationship with the commissioner. She had used the Signal recently to call on him, of which he had tentatively answered, alone. Although it had been over a year since we had brought down Hades and months since we had soared in to save the Gotham socialites attending Bruce Wayne's birthday party, she had admitted to him, "After all you've done, I've never thanked you."

Tim had said later as he had recounted the meeting that he had showed his surprise and she had instantly questioned his response.

He had replied, "Commissioner… You'll never have to."

Since then, we had slowly grown closer as a crime fighting triumvirate as vigilantes, police and the district attorney. For example, Tim often left care packages of information on Kelsey's desk during the middle of the night, thus leading to prompt investigations the next day and rapid prosecutions by DA Bryce.

Finally, we were working as a team.

As I felt my body relaxing, I fought a yawn while searching for the digitalized time on the DVD player to read a quarter after five. I turned my head and kissed Tim's cheek, "Time for bed, sleepyhe…"

He was sound asleep, his breaths coming slow and quiet. I kissed his cheek again before pulling the afghan off of the back of the couch covering the both of us as best as I could. When I settled back against him, he murmured, "I don't like deviled eggs…" before rolling his head away from me.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

I woke in a less than amusing manner.

"Crap!" Tim hoarsely snapped as he leapt from the couch.

The brightness passing through the bay windows of the den suggested that it was well beyond a quarter after five. I cracked open my left eye and found the DVD player reporting a time that was only three hours later. I hid under the afghan as I collapsed back onto the couch, doing my best to convince myself it was a dream, a dream far worse than one plagued with deviled eggs.

Just as silence returned to the townhouse, I heard Tim racing down the stairs, his dress shoes firmly slapping against the hardwood. His footfalls rapidly approached my semi-conscious form, "Cass, have you seen my car keys?"

I mumbled a negative response but he had not even bothered to pause long enough to hear it as he already ran into the hall towards the kitchen. Not a moment later, I heard a coffee cup shatter and another growled, "Crap!"

Reluctantly, I rose from the couch, still wrapped in the blanket. I walked in on Tim crouching over a puddle of coffee and blue ceramic pieces, doing his best to mop them up with wadded paper towels.

"Need help?" I asked; my voice surprisingly not raspy.

Instead of the stern reply, I expected, he squeaked, "No."

I held my laughter and proceeded to step to the side before hopping up on the counter for a better view.

Tim cleared his throat twice and then proceeded to add, "No, I got it… but can you help find, ahem, my keys?"

I leaned back on the counter and reached behind the bowl of oranges, grasping the key ring, jingling it as I announced, "Found them."

He stood, grabbing out at them hurriedly. I pulled my hand back under the blanket and leaned forward, kissing his cheek of which still smelt of smoke, "Have a good day at work, sweetie."

Tim rolled his eyes, snuck a hand under the blanket, snatched the keys and managed to leap over the puddle in one fluid move.

Before the door slammed, he said, "Have a good day of cleaning up coffee, snookums!"

^V^

"This is pretty much the best idea you've ever had," I complimented Selina.

Speechless, she nodded, never taking her eyes away from the half-dressed men slaving away in front of us.

On the third Saturday in July, I had woke at the ungodly hour of seven-fifteen, hit Dick in the head with my pillow, showered, dressed and fought with north bound traffic going out of the city before making it to Wayne Manor at exactly ten past eight.

Just as I went to open the service entrance door, the knob had turned and the door had retreated from within, allowing Selina to step forward, wearing khaki capris and a fitted black sleeveless shirt, "Just in time."

I had made my way passed her and into the kitchen, awed at the site before me. Usually the marble counter tops were neatly decorated with porcelain bowls of fruit, crystal vases of fresh flowers and of course a collection of culinary gadgetry. Instead, every single square inch of counter space was barren and clean. As I looked to the other side of the island counter, I had spotted the breakfast nook filled with cardboard boxes.

Selina stepped up behind me, her voice loud in the quietness of the house, "Alfred and I have been packing since five-thirty. I never realized just how many dishes we had until I had to wrap each piece myself."

I had snickered, "Dare I ask for a cup of coffee?"

Grinning, Selina had replied, "I went in and bought muffins and coffee from the bakery in Bristol. It's in the den."

She had led the way into the corridor and continued, "Alfred's in the study going over the details one more time before everyone gets here."

As we entered the den, I asked, "So what's our plan with Bruce?"

After she had grabbed a chocolate chip muffin and began to pick at the top of it, Selina spoke, "Well, I planted the idea of how fun it would be to go to the park in the kids' heads last night. So we are going for the morning and then out to lunch. That and Mattie needs a new pair of soccer cleats and Nathan should get a new pair of sneakers as well. But right before we leave, I'll make my grand exit by saying I have to get some grant proposal paperwork done for the Preserve, thus making Bruce have to spend the day away from the Manor."

"Brilliant."

"That it is. And since I doubt we can get everything done by the time he gets back, even with the amount of manpower behind this whole operation, I gave Mattie money so they could go play miniature golf and get ice cream after hitting the athletic store."

After taking a sip of mocha latte, I shook my head, "I almost feel bad for Bruce."

Then together we had laughed, "Almost."

As Selina had predicted, Bruce passed the den Nathan in tow at exactly nine, with Mattie a few steps behind. He had paused at the door, no doubt confused as to why were in the den. Instead of standing in place, Mattie bounded into the room, "Barbara, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, thought I'd come up for breakfast."

"Dick didn't come?"

I had shaken my head, "I couldn't get him out of bed this morning, he must have been up late playing video games."

Mattie had nodded in reply, "Well, it is the weekend."

Letting Nathan to the ground, Bruce followed his son tentatively into the room, "I thought we were going to the park? Have a breakfast picnic."

Nathan climbed onto the couch with his mother and promptly strangled her with a good morning hug. She had kissed both of his cheeks before replying, "I'm sorry, I totally forgot that this Wildlife Preservative Grant Proposal was due this week. I figured I could stay here and have Barbara help me and you could take the kids to the park, and then out to lunch."

"By myself?"

I couldn't help but snicker at the thought of Bruce being frightened of corralling his offspring at a park full of other children.

Taking her son into her arms, Selina rose and approached Bruce, "If you can't then maybe we can go to the park next weekend…"

Nathan started bouncing, "Wanna swing! Wanna swing!"

Fifteen minutes later, Bruce and the Wayne children left the Manor. Selina and I saw them out to the door and did everything possible to control our laughter as Mattie asked, "After we get shoes, can we try them out while playing miniature golf?"

Once the car had pulled out of the garage and had made it down the drive, Selina had stated, "Game time."

We returned to the kitchen to find Alfred, wiping down the marble countertops one last time. In less than an hour it, would surely be far from the smooth, glassy surface that he had religiously maintained it as.

Not twenty minutes after Bruce had departed with Mattie and Nathan, two large service vans and a massive delivery truck rumbled up the driveway. Selina practically skipped out the front door, bounding towards the jean clad form of the first van's driver.

"Mrs. Wayne?" he asked, his voice and muscular build were both straight out of a Lifetime movie.

"Oh, please, call me Selina."

He nodded, removing his John Deere hat, "Well, if you'll show us to the kitchen, we'll get to work."

While Selina went about greeting all of the construction workers, I returned to the kitchen entranceway, surprised to see that Alfred had moved a sitting chair in the doorway, as well as a stand holding the remaining muffins and coffee.

Brilliant, absolutely brilliant.

After showing the foreman the final plans, Selina joined me in the doorway and Alfred excused himself to tend to his duties upstairs. He always kept busy during the day but I knew it would be difficult to stand idly by, watching his kitchen being torn down to make way for the new.

With nearly fourteen men working, three separate operations were being performed at the same time. A crew of four was systematically removing the tiles of the floor in addition to the slabs of marble that made up the countertop. Another set of four were hard at work taking out the cabinets and drawers, neatly arranging them on the side yard in the order they were removed. Outside, Selina had spotted five others unloading and organizing the new finished Hickory cabinet system in addition to the new slate blue tiled floors and matching slate blue countertops.

As the day progressed and the temperature rose, Selina opened the windows to let in a breeze. But not until after each of the twenty-something muscular man-slaves had gone about removing their white work shirts.

For nearly four hours, we watched as the kitchen transformed before our eyes, with a brief half hour break to fetch subs and drinks for fourteen very hungry and very thirsty and very gorgeous men.

Surprisingly enough, they were nearly finished by the time Bruce and kids had returned a little after three in the afternoon. Sans children, Bruce had stepped up behind us and gawked into his kitchen, just in time to see four men wrestling his new state of the art refrigerator into place.

"What the hell…" he muttered.

Selina glanced back briefly before taking a deep breath, "Bruce, I forgot to tell you something else…"

As she stood, he couldn't keep his eyes off of the half-naked men that were adding the final touches to his kitchen. "That you decided to refashion our kitchen into a Man Hole?"

I hid my laugh behind my bottle of green tea as Selina stammered, "Well, um, no but Alfred and I were talking the other day and…"

"You said you needed supplies for the kitchen, not a new kitchen…. I thought you meant food, maybe a new toaster… Not teenaged boys…" he growled.

Selina spoke with more humor in her voice that I thought was safe, "They're all of age, we asked."

A vein at Bruce's temple had begun to throb slowly and I watched, somewhat frightened, as he took a series of slow deep breaths. After far too long, he spoke, "Can they at least put some clothes on?"

Selina, who had never feared Bruce's wrath, looked over her shoulder at the sweat covered, smooth, Playgirl calendar torsos, "What, too HBO?"

He grunted, looked over the men once more and then walked away, muttering something about spending some more quality time with the children.

^V^

"Dick, there's something I wanted you to know."

I was in the home stretch of my nightly warm-up, more specifically a set of crunches while hanging upside down from a chin-up bar on the wall. I continued with my exercise after spotting Barbara by the doorway of the training room. My mind had not been on the fact that my lungs were still recovering from the previous night's fiery escapades, but instead on Nathan's birthday party. I had joked that the curse Bruce suffered had apparently not transferred to his son, as the child's party had carried on without a single sign of foul play. Everyone had laughed except, of course, Bruce.

It was because my two-year-old brother was on my mind that I found myself praying silently that Barbara wouldn't say anything about starting our own little tribe of Graysons.

Instead, she said, "I've been cheating."

I paused, mid-crunch and proceeded to drop back, hanging completely parallel with the wall, "Barbara, what are you talking about?"

"Tim and I… I know I made a vow to you and I'm sorry but…"

Instead of anger filling my veins, I shook my head, disappointed more than anything. I finished the last five crunches before dropping to the floor, approaching her, "I have to admit, I've seen this coming… and Tim does make a good looking elf."

She nodded, "I promise, it won't happen again."

"You know I'll have to take action now…"

Barbara looked up at me, her lip held captive by her upper incisors.

She led the way to her lair of computers, and proceeded to unplug the USB cord that connected her ZIP drive to the main computer and tentatively handed it to me. There was a long, quiet moment before she said, "Thank you for understanding…"

"Babs, I will never understand what you two see in that World of Warriors thing…"

A flash of emotion came across her face and she tried to hide it by adjusting her hair and turning towards her computer, "It's World of Warcraft."

I shook my head at the thought that Tim and Barbara, the Batman and the Oracle, had fallen off the bandwagon of a self-proclaimed hiatus from playing their beloved computer game. Of which had been just in time, as both Cassandra and I had nearly called for an intervention after I had caught Tim playing at work and she had found Barbara playing during patrols.

"Well, I'm going to finish up and then change," I finally spoke.

Barbara nodded before going about cracking her fingers and wrists, her very own warm-up routine for the night.

At quarter of eight, I was nearly finished when Barbara appeared in the doorway of the training room once more. I completed my set of chin-ups before dropping from the bar. Customarily, I removed my tank top and proceeded to wipe the sweat from my face and neck before tossing it into the hamper near the door, nothing but net.

"Now what, are you going to leave me for a hobbit?"

As I approached, Barbara said, "Close. Looks like it's just you and Cass tonight, Tim's heading up to the Watchtower for a JLA meeting."

"No fair… I have to battle with thugs and he gets to eat doughnuts and chit chat?"

Barbara tried to hide her smile and replied, "I don't think that's the typical agenda of a JLA meeting, Dick."

"How do you know?" When she shrugged in response, I accused, "You watch the meetings, don't you?"

"As Oracle, it's my responsibility to keep up to date with the current matters and concerns of the Justice League."

Shaking my head, I returned to the main mat and proceeded to work on some shadow boxing. After a moment, I realized Barbara was there to stay and I was inclined to ask, "Was there anything else?"

"What? Oh, no."

I began flexing extraneously in order to show off the muscling of my back, "Like what you see? Or do I need a yellow helmet and a tool belt?"

I tried to hold the serious look on my face but as she began to giggle, I couldn't help but join in. When she had said that she was going to spend the day at the Manor with Selina, I hadn't thought much of it. Over the years, they spent a great deal of time together, no doubt each venting about their husbands respectively. Sometime last year, Barbara had suggested I do the same with Bruce.

Somehow, I didn't see any chance surviving an attempt to ask Bruce, "Does Selina dry her bras on the shower door? Babs does and it drives me crazy!"

But when Barbara had returned from her day with Selina, she was smiling far too much for it to have been an average day of women folk chatter. I had done my best to ignore it until the end of dinner when I had brought up the idea of having some remodeling done at the firm to make individual offices for Tim and Will and she broke out laughing.

That's when she spilled the beans.

For some time, Selina had been interested in making some adjustments to the house. Aside from the kitchen, Selina had also thought about redecorating a number of the rooms in the Manor, namely each of the children's bedrooms, the master bedroom and the den. But since she had always seen Wayne Manor as Bruce's house, she had always been timid about asking for permission.

That was until Alfred pointed out, "In all senses of ownership, Master Bruce can only make valid claims on two places on the entire property: the study and the Cave. And I have always wondered what the kitchen would look like in slate blue."

And since money was never an issue, they had gone all out to completely remodel and refurnish the kitchen but more importantly, they had hired a massive crew in order to try and complete it within twelve hours. That way, Bruce couldn't complain about them disrupting the function of the house and Selina could guarantee that things would be completed in a timely fashion.

A timely, half-naked fashion.

Barbara had been very frank with the details of the construction process, from the tattoos that some of the young men had sported right down to the look of horror on Bruce's face when he had found out. Apparently, Bruce had forbidden the children from coming back downstairs until each and every crewmember was dressed appropriately, of which had acted as the killjoy for both Selina and Barbara. She had left a little before five and they had actually been ahead of schedule, cleaning up debris while checking the new faucets as well as the attachments for the new appliances.

When Barbara had told me all of the juicy details, she assured me that the only fully naked body she wanted to see was my own. My pout had instantly transformed into a devious grin.

Barbara smiled briefly before looking at her watch, "Well, check in before you head out, I'll try and see where Cass plans on patrolling, and we'll go from there."

I waited until after she left to respond, "Yes, ma'am."

Not thirty minutes later, I had finished warming up and donned my Nightwing suit with exception of my mask and gloves. Adjacent to the training room there was small storage room with equipment and supplies on reserve in place of driving to the Bat-cave anytime we needed Batarangs or new binoculars. I checked and restocked the compartments of my boots and then my gloves before finally putting them on. I even secured the Zip Drive in a spare compartment in my left boot.

Mask in hand, I made my way to Oracle's lair for the second time that evening. She was staring at a map of the northern part of the city, of which Tim usually tended to.

It was on my shoulders for the night.

We reviewed some major points to check into during the night as well as a new case Tim had started looking into involving a diamond thief that had been working his or her way up the east coast.

"Hey, wasn't Selina wearing a new pair of earrings last night?"

Barbara glared at me over her shoulder, "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Uh, of course… Well, better get going, lots to do…"

A moment later as I was leaping from the Clocktower window, I had a growing fear that Barbara was already dialing Wayne Manor. I filled my lungs with warm summer air, knowing I would only truly appreciate it after Selina left me to spend my remaining days breathing through a tube.

^V^

"…Which brings us to the new rotation schedule for Monitor Duty…" Superman's smooth, baritone voice brought me back to full attention.

A bought of smoke inhalation induced bronchitis had made sleeping, as well as breathing, a difficult if not impossible task. An act of God, a heavy dose of bronchodilators and a third of a jar of Vicks Vapo-Rub had gracefully kept me from coughing during the first half of the monthly Justice League meeting. I had nearly forgotten, in light of the hectic nights I had been facing. But Clark had contacted me on the JL link just as I was suiting up to head out for patrols.

Going nearly double the speed limit, I made it to the Cave a little before eight in the evening and only minutes later, stepped through the teleporter that would jumble my atoms from Bristol to the Watchtower in seconds.

Even though I had been to the Watchtower several times since I had accepted a position in the Justice League, I had yet to actually participate in any active combat. There had been a close call les than three weeks ago when terrorist activity in Paris had suggested involvement by the ever notorious Prometheus.

But as excited as I had been to face-off with a man who hated every fiber of Batman's body, it turned out to be a much less intriguing and challenging opponent. Merely a freelance "architectural hitman" who wanted to bring down the Arc De Triumphe.

To my left, J'onn J'onnz sighed quietly before his voice filled my mind, I would bet half of this solar system that he assigned me to Thursdays.

And that's a bad thing? I responded silently.

It is now that I'm taken with Survivor.

Despite the fire in my lungs and the fact that I would give anything to be on the streets of Gotham rather than the meeting room of the Watchtower, I allowed the corner of my mouth to lift a millimeter.

As a child and even as Robin, I had looked up to every single one of the figures around me as the heroes they were. Bruce had a natural distrust for super-humans, one which I completely understood. But I couldn't help but be amazed at how they managed to function in a common world despite their magnificent abilities. But having worked beside them had also given me a different perspective. That despite their powers and origins, they each had a very human side.

One which showed quite clearly at every monthly meeting. Watching Green Lantern polish his ring, catching Flash practicing going cross-eyed and silently chatting with J'onn about his Thursday night television line-up, I realized I wasn't the only one bored out of my mind.

When Superman had asked me to join the League last December, I had been all too eager to accept. Working alongside heroes I had spent years idolizing was practically a dream come true, second only to stepping into the boots of the one hero I had never dreamed of meeting let alone ever working under. In the first week of January, Superman, the social butterfly that he was, had called all of the members to the Watchtower to help welcome me "back".

As I had suited up in the Cave that particular evening, Bruce had come down to help check and reprogram the teleporter, as it had not been used in a little over two years. I watched on, cowl drawn back, not sure what to say or if there had been anything to say. Bruce had surprisingly broken the silence, "None of them know… aside from J'onn and Clark. The others should recognize the difference but I wouldn't depend on it. It's up to you whether or not you want to tell them..."

I had nodded, still remaining silent.

He left without another word and I had waited until I heard his footsteps on the steps before I pulled the cowl into place.

Diana had been the first to recognize the differences between Bruce and I but she didn't say anything, she simply blinked more than necessary before welcoming me back. The others took to staring at me, concern coming over their features. When Bruce had suffered amnesia following the Pasqualle shooting, we had made attempts to keep things running without anyone else knowing. Clark had randomly visited and when Mattie had been born and the others had dropped by, only J'onn was able to tell what was wrong. The remaining Justice League members had thankfully remained oblivious.

That was until Superman had recorded his thoughts on the Watchtower's computer system, of which Flash had been all too curious to hack into and listen to. But by that time, Bruce had already regained his memory and was training to return to the mantle of the Bat.

This time, it was a permanent change.

I never once revealed my identity but they didn't need me to tell them. They knew it wasn't Dick Grayson behind the mask and they knew Bruce would have only entrusted one other soul to carry on in his stead. Only once was the subject brought up in my face and it had surprisingly been Diana.

She had corned me in the corridor as I had headed out after that first official gathering. The anxiety in her eyes had sent a chill down my spine, considering she never let her guard down. I had remained stoic as she spoke, barely above a whisper, "Please… tell me he's… I mean, if there was something…"

"I can assure you there's nothing to be concerned about," escaped from my lips in a gravelly voice that made her blink rapidly.

J'onn brought me back to full attention, I knew it… Now I will have to look into Tivo…

I glanced over to Superman as he scanned a printout of the monitor schedule, "Flash, you will be responsible for a twelve hour shift on Friday and then an additional six hours on Tuesday."

Flash, who sat almost directly across from me rolled his eyes and muttered, "There goes my social life…"

Not the wisest actions considering how acute a certain Kryptonian's hearing was.

Superman continued after taking a deep breath, "Which leaves us… Batman, a twelve hours shift on Monday along with a six hour block on Tuesday."

"Alongside Flash?" I asked, of which had been the first words I had uttered in the last hour.

Superman nodded, "The six-hour shifts will overlap with the incoming Leaguer for roughly one hour."

Flash grinned, "I smell a Halo power hour."

I shook my head slightly and Superman stated, "If there aren't any qualms with the schedule…"

Glancing over at J'onn, I nearly smirked again to see his large brown wrinkle slightly.

It was another hour before the meeting was adjourned. I did my best to try and appear interested in the topics of discussion, but with limited global threats and an eerie calm that had settled, there hadn't been much of anything to discuss. When the subject of still outstanding terrorists came up, my mind clicked on when I heard Oracle's voice on the overhead speakers causing me to wonder just how long she had been tuned in, "Speaking of which, Interpol flag just came up… Apparently a man garbed in red with wrist mounted weapons just tried to take out the French ambassador while he was visiting Turkey."

"Deadshot," I growled lowly.

J'onn, just as much of a detective as I was, spoke up, "Did he manage to escape?"

"Interestingly enough, no he didn't. But when they went to put him in a squad car, he had a small explosive, managed to blow the car up and a few cops. And from witness testimony, his hands."

Taste of his own medicine…

She continued, "He managed to get a few blocks before he was apprehended again, this time, no weapons or tricks up his sleeves."

"Or anything else," Flash snickered.

Superman nodded slowly after scowling at Flash, "Good news for once… We appreciate it."

"Anytime."

Shortly after I had become Batman, Deadshot had visited Gotham and shot Nightwing after he had witnessed a hit. Lawton managed to escape undetected to return to his part-time life as a gun for hire. We always had an eye and an ear out for him but he had only been loosely linked to four hits in two years. Dick had always tried to joke about Deadshot, as he did about everything, and said he was starting to show his age, just like Bruce had been.

The slip-up in Turkey made me think that there was a fast growing niche for over-the hill baddies and that perhaps a retirement prison for the aging criminal was in order.

^V^

The children and I had decided to read while Selina showered and changed for the evening. Mattie, Nathan and I sprawled on his new bed and worked our way through two chapters of Charlotte's Web, of which I had been thankful for since we had read nothing but Harry Potter for the first half of the summer. Nathan fell asleep fairly quickly and I told Mattie to keep reading while I tucked him in. I then suggested we could head to her room to continue reading.

She shrugged and yawned, "That's okay, Dad, I think I'm going to go to bed anyway."

"You sure?"

Mattie nodded then stood on the edge of his bed before kissing my cheek, "Good night, Dad."

Following her down the hall, I watched on as she got into bed before adjusting the covers over Taffy's purring form. I waited until she was also under the covers before I stepped to the door and turned the lights off. For a moment, I faced down the corridor to the master bedroom, but then turned to the stairs and headed down to inspect the new kitchen.

Since the modifications had not been completed before dinner, I had taken everyone out to dinner in town. Mattie had wanted to stay and help finish the kitchen but the idea of my daughter mixed with over a dozen young men set fire to my spine. Selina must have noticed my change in stance and had been quick to tell Mattie that she would help put things back once everything was finished.

I had been nearly silent throughout dinner, only speaking to verify that Nathan had miraculously made a hole-in-one at miniature golf and that the course manager had said he was Tiger Woods in the making.

The ride home had been quiet with Mattie staring out the backseat window and Nathan dozing on and off in his car seat. Once we arrived home, Selina remained downstairs to check in on the crew as they wrapped things up while I took the kids upstairs to bathe and change. When Selina did make it upstairs she had headed straight for the shower, no doubt to wash off a long day of staring at pectoral muscles.

There should have been no reason to be jealous of the twenty-something's that had resided in my home for the day. I could have bench-pressed two of them at once without breaking a sweat. It shouldn't have bothered me, walking in on my wife ogling bare-chested construction workers as I knew none of them would ever be worthy of her affection.

But it had.

I sat at the new island counter staring at a glass of water I had yet to taste. The smell of freshly cut wood and still drying paint filled the room, a fresh smell that for some reason stank.

A stink that was quickly overcome by fragrant soap and a hint of rich perfume.

Instead of turning to look at Selina, I continued to stare at the water glass, tapping on the base of it causing the water to ripple. She came up behind me and leaned against my back, her arms slowly circling my waist as her chin came to rest on my shoulder, "Do you like it?"

I paused before replying, "I don't… not like it."

"Jackass…" she growled in my ear.

I smirked and finally raised the glass to my lips.

Selina drew away slightly and spread her hands across my shoulders, "Got a kink here…" As she pressed into the knot, I grimaced. She leaned forward again and said, "Why don't we go upstairs, I'll work it out for you."

On the way home from dinner, I had checked the news radio station to find that a brief report was being made on the capture of Deadshot in Turkey. Unfortunately, I would be poor company until I was able to learn every single fact about his final actions in addition to his haphazard apprehension.

After stepping off of the stool, I turned to face her, "I'll be up in a while."

"A while…" she repeated.

Frowning, I tried to explain, "I have to…"

She pressed a finger to my lips, "I know," and then turned and disappeared in the darkened corridor.

In a normal marriage, my actions would have a fatal error, one that would haunt me for weeks to come. I would be forbidden from my own bedroom for at least one night if not more. We would avoid each other, altering our daily routines in order to do so. Eventually we would realize that it was all a foolish fight and then would let it fade from our memories.

But we were anything but normal. She would be waiting up for me, reading that novel she had been working on since the Fourth of July weekend. No matter how late I stayed in the Cave, her offer for a backrub would still be valid. And we would never consider it to have been a fight because then… we would be fighting all of the time.

Despite that the house never was anywhere above sixty-five degrees, when I entered the Cave I felt a wave of Goosebumps raise on my forearms. As I made my way down the steps, I glanced at my watch to see it was just before nine. Just as I thought that Tim would be returning from the meeting at the Watchtower any moment, I heard the hum of electricity and a flash of light from the left side of the Cave's main floor. I paused and waited for him to step out of the teleportation chamber. When nearly a minute had passed, I suddenly wondered if the teleporter had malfunctioned but then I heard an unsteady footfall on granite followed by a slow exhalation.

"It gets easier each time you teleport," I heard my voice echo in the cavern.

Tim, cowl in place, stepped into view. When he spotted me, he instinctively pulled the mask back and let it hang between his shoulders. "Not sure I like the idea of being too comfortable with my atoms being shot around."

"It never gets that easy," I corrected him.

Tim nodded, letting a smirk come over his lips before asking, "Were you just heading upstairs?"

I shook my head, "Actually just coming down."

"Have you heard about---."

As I nodded, I finished, "Deadshot, yes. Only what was broadcasted on the news however."

Tim made his way to the computer bay and as I followed, I couldn't help but watch the edge of his cape, hovering just above the edge of his thick soled boots. I had always had the cape long, so that several inches would drag behind me…

His voice interrupted my thoughts as he tapped on the main keyboard, "Not much more to it, unfortunately. He picked a bad time of day, was practically in plain sight… And his escape was messy… It was almost as if he was doomed from the start."

When I didn't reply, he looked over his shoulder at me, "What do you think?"

Although I had done my best to try and not be too heavily involved with ongoing cases, I had made it clear from the beginning that I would always be available for a second opinion. Recently, however, I as well as Barbara had been impressed with Tim's personal progress as a detective. His eye for detail had made him a natural for the job but it was his near-obsession with solving cases that had forced him to adapt to perfection, relying heavily on his experiences in order to fine-tune his mind.

And as a result, I had not been in the Cave for anything more but to check in with Barbara mid-way through patrols each night.

I stared at the muted news footage of Deadshot being pursued on foot by Turkish policemen. Finally, I replied, "It's possible whoever hired him had set him up."

"That's what I was thinking. Actually, that's all that I could think after we found out during the JLA meeting, but they were all too preoccupied with when they had to sit in for monitor duty…" As his voice faded, I nodded, recounting many wasted hours spent amidst the world's greatest superheroes, bickering over who had spilled soda on the computer consoles.

Just as I was about to suggest looking into the whereabouts of a few of the more infamous assassins in operation, Tim paged Oracle and asked, "O, can you get me a list of the fifteen most wanted guns for hire."

"Christmas shopping a little early?" she replied, the same humor in her voice that I had always ignored during late nights of patrolling Gotham. "Domestic or imported?" she continued.

"Both."

Although I wanted to stay and help weed out the less than likely candidates for setting up Lawton, I knew Tim would be itching to head out to the City. I left him, listening as Barbara gave him a run down of what Dick and Cassandra had already accomplished for the evening.

Good soldiers…

Selina was reading in bed, only the small lamp on the table at her side illuminating the room. She continued to remain engrossed in the novel while I changed and washed up. When I proceeded to lay face down on the bed, still over the covers, she quietly marked her page and set the book down. I felt warm fingers on the tense muscles of my shoulders and sighed.

Still silent, she proceeded to work out a few kinks and bunches that had knotted up over the last few days. Doing my best to relax, I let my breathing slow to a crawl, closing my eyes as I did so.

That was until she plucked a hair from my lower back.

I looked over my shoulder and growled at her but she simply smiled, "It got caught on my ring, sorry." Selina crawled back to her side of the bed, turned the light off and proceeded to recline beside me, face down as I was. I turned my head to look at her just as she did the same. When I remained stoic, she inched closer, planting a kiss on my chin. Then my nose. Even after her tongue grazed my disfigured collar bone, I was still unmoved.

Finally, she growled and bit my ear lobe.

"Ow," I said slowly, my flesh still pinned between her incisors.

She let go and said, "Funny, for a second I thought you were catatonic… What's wrong?"

I was about to reply as usual but she made a dive for my ear again and I changed my answer, "It troubles me…"

"What does? The fact that I can remodel your kitchen and live to remodel another room?"

"Very funny," I sighed. Her smile faded in the darkness, "What is it then?"

"Tim… I've never seen him wear the cowl, until tonight. Even then it was just until he realized I was there… I've seen in him countless times in the suit, driving the Batmobile or even sitting my… that damn chair by the computer but… I have never seen him wear that cowl..."

She was quiet for a moment and I was certain she was going to tell me to stop worrying about something as stupid as that. Instead she moved in and kissed the faint scar on my forehead.

"Bruce… I think it might trouble Tim more than it does you. I mean, how could anyone face you in the guise you created, that you sacrificed so much for…"

I felt her fingers on mine and slowly grasped them, "There's no need for him to be… I don't want to say ashamed but…"

"Maybe on some level he is. Not ashamed of being Batman himself but the fact that you couldn't be any longer."

After a silent three minutes, I grunted.

She purred.

^V^


	15. What Lies Ahead: XV

Title: What Lies Ahead: XV

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: A new villain forces Bruce to step out of retirement, albeit not into a Batsuit…

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Nightwing's remark about The Sopranos is quoted from Batman 588.

^V^

When Miss Mattie had been a toddler, she had unfortunately received very little socialization with those of a similar age. Nevertheless, she had blossomed into a very sociable and amiable young girl, befriending many of her classmates with a natural ease that her father had never known. And with young Master Nathan reaching the peak of his toddler years, I had grown accustomed to hearing "Pre-K" and "Group Play" echoing through the Manor's corridors from July well into late August.

And of course, an abundance of Master Bruce's grumbles.

The stalemate of Master Bruce against and Ms. Selina in favor of young Nathan to be in Pre-school came to end the weekend before Miss Mattie herself was due back to school at Bristol Elementary. After she and her mother had returned from the final outing of school shopping, Miss Mattie had given her old backpack to Master Nathan as she had a new one to sport for the school year. He promptly began trotting about the house, the empty sack flapping about on his small shoulders.

Master Bruce, who had been reviewing the Sunday paper in the seclusion of his study, had paused when his son had skipped into the room. As per Ms. Selina's orders, I had followed the child downstairs in order to keep an eye on him. I watched on from the doorway as Master Nathan went about retrieving items off of his father's desk before haphazardly putting them into the backpack. Once the small bag was filled with pens, blank and printed pieces of paper as well as a few crystal paperweights, the child carefully zipped the bag and donned it before looking up to Master Bruce's shocked eyes, "Time for school, Daddy!"

The very next morning, Jonathan Thomas Wayne was enrolled into the Bristol Elementary Pre-School Education Program. Instead of spending his days with his mother, myself or Ms. Barbara, young Master Nathan would be interacting with a dozen others, ages two through four, under the guidance of five instructors with current certification in early child development. Despite that it was a complete change form his daily life, it didn't take long for the young boy to become adjusted to and if not eager to attend his daily sessions.

After the first month of fourth grade, Miss Mattie was well set into her weekly routine. Riding lessons on Tuesday and Thursday and then soccer practices Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Despite her hectic collection of extra-curricular activates, Mattie was more than capable of excelling both in and out of school. After the second week of classes, she had come home with a letter from her math teacher, recommending she be placed in the advanced class among a very select few.

The look of pride on Master Bruce's face was one I wouldn't soon forget.

Similar to his sister, young Master Nathan had taken quickly to the early education program, rapidly developing his social skills. As a result, his speech, which had been stunted at first, was improving and growing daily. Where once he would rabble during dinner, he would actually rattle off whatever was going through his keen little mind without hesitation or mispronunciation. His fine and large motor skills were also nearly mastered and he could easily run about the Manor and the grounds, more often than not with his sister chasing after him.

Ms. Selina generally returned home from the Preserve in time to pick up her son in the afternoon. But on the first Friday of October, she had called to inform me that she would be running behind schedule. Understandably so as it was the scheduled day for the veterinarian to come perform examinations and any procedures needed on the big cats.

"I called Bruce but Miranda said that he has meetings until six…"

"I will see to it that he and Miss Mattie are brought home."

She sighed quietly, "Thank you, Alfred. What would we do without you?"

"I fear the day, my dear."

Since I had planned on running errands in town that afternoon, I altered my schedule to do so earlier in the day. Before heading out, however, I had to change just one more item on my itinerary.

Standing at the telephone in the service entranceway, I dialed ten digits and waited patiently, "Free Clinic, Janice speaking."

"Yes, Janice, may I please speak to Dr. Thompkins?"

"Uh… yeah, just a minute."

I waited six before I was greeted with, "Yes, this is Dr. Thompkins."

"I'm afraid I may have to cancel our lunch."

"How very unlike you, Alfred…" I told her about the change in plans for the afternoon and she suggested, "Things are pretty quiet here, how about brunch instead?"

I paused, wondering suddenly why I hadn't though of the same solution myself. "Brunch would be lovely."

We agreed to meet at a small but popular café in Bryanttown. A drive for her, which was surprising as she rarely traveled beyond a mile radius of the clinic. I had been tempted to ask why she had chosen the restaurant but had decided to stomach my curiosity.

After doing battle with mid-morning traffic, I still managed to arrive ten minutes early. After securing a small table by the street side window, I proceeded to tidy the glass sugar and cream holder before straightening the silverware on the pale blue cloth napkins. Leslie arrived five minutes after I had and shook her head as she sat across from me, "Alfred…"

"Old habits die hard, I'm afraid."

"I bet if I had been a few minutes later you would have scrounged up a washcloth and soap."

I managed a soft smile before responding, "I have become a bit predictable in my old age."

She reached over and touched my hand with her fingertips, "Now, now... we both know you were predictable long before you were old."

Before I could have devised a typically witty remark, our waiter arrived to take our orders. As always, she ordered conservatively: a lunch portion of Caesar salad and a cup of broccoli and cheddar soup with an iced tea. I followed her lead by saying, "I shall have the same."

While waiting for our dishes to arrive, we made small talk about the children, more specifically about the fast approaching deadline for their Halloween costumes. Since they were born, we had always taken to doting up on the Wayne children as our grandchildren. And as with many grandparents, seeing young faces in tiny costumes made the wait for October thirty-first worthwhile.

According to the rumors I had overheard, the theme for the ghoulish night was the characters form the wizard books Miss Mattie had read over the summer. However, this followed many other rumors of possible costumes, ranging from M&M candies to Safari explorers.

Leslie smirked, "What, no superhero theme?"

"Not this year, I'm afraid. Master Bruce still has yet to recover from Miss Mattie's Kryptonian costume."

She laughed loudly but quickly silenced herself as the waiter arrived. As I placed my napkin across my lap, she continued, "So I haven't seen much of Tim lately, or Cass and Dick for that matter."

I nodded, staring at the unexpected collection of diced tomatoes spread about my soup. "Their nightly ventures have been somewhat sedate recently."

"Except for the fires."

"Yes…" Since the previous Christmas, Gotham City had been subject to near monthly arson induced fires, mainly abandoned buildings filled with squatters but several had actually been inhabited residential and commercial buildings in prime real estate areas. Exploration into the one responsible had been fruitless, both those performed by the professional arson investigators as well as the Batman.

"He's a bright boy. I know he'll get to the bottom of it."

And even with summer drawing to an end and that I agreed with Leslie in regards to Master Tim's intelligence, I had a terrible feeling that the city was only going to get hotter.

^V^

Personally, I had thought it had been a good idea, one to promote morale within the firm, improving productivity through creativity and even teamwork amongst four very different men. Dick agreed, wholeheartedly, and had even suggested we put one up in the Bat-Cave so we didn't have to spar with each other all of the time.

But the look on Jim Gordon's face as Dick and I played one-on-one with the door mounted basketball hoop suggested he thought it was an ill choice for an office utility.

Dick elbowed me, causing me to drop the ball into his hands. He ducked passed me and then slam dunked the ball gently enough to not break the hoop but with enough force to cause it to twang audibly. Before either of us could catch the miniaturized basketball, Frank bolted from under Jim's desk and snatched it and quickly trotted away to his bed. Jim, shaking his head as he seated himself at his desk sighed, "Game over."

Will, who was fighting with the fax machine, glanced up and said, "But I called winners."

Jim silenced him with a look that rivaled one of Bruce's, causing me to stand a little straighter before returning to my desk.

It was a little before noon and with only afternoon appointments; Dick and I had quickly grown bored from returning calls and working on security alarm layouts for a new condo building being put in on the northern harbor. It was a massive deal and I had been shocked to learn that Dick and Jim's firm had been their first choice. I had snuck a peek at the billing records and had raised my brow to see the final fee for nearly three months of initial work had been in the five-digits.

Much better than working IT for a bank.

After checking my office e-mail, I spotted a message from As I clicked on it, I shook my head, still not sure why Barbara had an account with the firm's inter-office system.

Following a quick scan, I noticed it was coded over as some lame forward bout how if I didn't send it to at least twenty-five of my closest friends that I would lose five of my friends and never have sex again. The last coded file she had sent me had said that if I didn't resend it, Bloody Mary would stab my eyes out in my sleep.

Kids and their internet.

With our investigation into the mysterious arsonist that had been plaguing my city for nearly a year, I had spent many a work day reading up on the art of fire making, as well as tracking down files on the most recently active arsonists in the states and across the seas.

In my training as Robin, I had undergone Bruce's rigorous instruction in bomb making as well as bomb detecting and handling. One of the major ideas he had imprinted into my mind was that a bomb is only as sophisticated as its maker. Pipe bombs. Sticks of dynamite. Gunpowder in a coffee can. Effective to some level but they clearly demonstrate that the maker wanted nothing but to make a loud noise and stir some dust up.

The upper class of arsonists combines their bomb making finesse with a combination of accelerants to spread the fire once it has started. Whether detonated by a timer, heat or friction, it doesn't take long for even the smallest and simplest of explosives to torch a ten story building that has been treated with butane.

In nine of the eleven major fires we had seen in the last year, traces of Pentaerythritol Tetranitrate had been found in addition to Nitroglycerine. Thinking back on my training, both were controlled substances and suggested this arsonist knew exactly how to get the job done with finesse and fire power. The remaining fires had shown no sign of foul play, two resulting from leaky gas mains in an older part of the city and the final had been the result of a drunk falling asleep while smoking.

But in those nine fires, a collected fifty-three people had died and another hundred and eighty had been injured.

Fifty-three lives…

The last fire had been less than three weeks earlier but it perhaps had been the most horrific. Sixty-one residents had been injured and a fourteen man fire rescue team had lost their lives when the top four stories collapsed on top of them.

And for what?

Bruce had taken an active role in researching the locations that had been attacked. He estimated that the nine buildings were practically worthless but the acreage they resided in was collectively worth over six-hundred million dollars. They had been owned by different companies and individuals alike, no direct or indirect connections to suggest an inside job.

But Bruce had made a ground-breaking link the other week as we brainstormed in the Bat-Cave. With the owners unable to finance rebuilding their properties, they were immediately put up on the market for sale once the wreckage was cleared. Within months and in two cases mere weeks, each property was bought, again by different companies and individuals.

But as Bruce investigated the new owners, he was quick to find that each were newly incorporated, within the last year. He had yet to link the mastermind behind it but knowing Bruce, it wouldn't take long at all.

I was just reading up on the latest Barbara had sent me about the new undetectable forms of ammonia nitrate and fuel oil concentrates when a balled up piece of paper landed on my keyboard. I glanced over the top of my monitor to see Dick grinning from his own desk. After tossing it in the trash can at my feet, I asked, "What?"

"Uh, it's lunch time."

I glanced at the face of my watch to see that it was indeed a little after noon. After gazing about the room, I was momentarily confused to see that both Jim and Will were already gone. Looking back to my screen, I finally put it together that I had been reading for nearly an hour.

Dick stood and donned his blazer as he approached, "Reading anything good?"

I closed the e-mail, "Just brushing up on my new hobby."

"Bomb making… it suits you."

As I stood, I asked, "What does that mean?"

He shrugged, "You've got that whole quiet, dark broodiness thing down pat."

After crumpling up a pink phone message sheet I threw it at his head, smirking when it nailed him between the eyes. As we headed out to the lobby, I asked, "So, did Jim and Will go for lunch together?"

Dick shook his head and cut in front of me to be the first one out through the revolving doors, "Will's ex is in town with his daughters and Jim was meeting Barbara."

"Ah, so where are we going?"

As he raised his hand for a cab, Dick looked back to me before raising his other hand to touch his nose, "Not it."

"Damnit…" I growled.

Forced to choose, I ended up on Oriole's Sports Bar and Grill less than fourteen blocks away. Over priced for the quality but it definitely made up for it in quantity. Massive grilled burgers and mountains of steak fries that were only made better with the testosterone laden environment.

We placed our orders as soon as we were seated but from the number of booths and tables filled, I knew we would be waiting for some time.

Although we rarely made shop talk in public, Dick looked away from the big screen replaying the Knights game from the night before and asked, "So, you think he'll want to?"

Having no lead in to the question, most would have asked what he was talking about. But after spending nearly an hour debating with him on the roof of the Murnau Museum the night before, I knew exactly what he was talking about.

I sighed, played with the salt shaker, then finally looked up at him, "I don't know."

"I think he will. I mean, come on, who wouldn't want to?"

As I smirked, I replied, "You're right."

"Are you going to ask him tonight?"

My smirk faded almost as quickly as it had appeared. "I guess I don't have a choice. I mean, I don't want to waste anymore time… If he can help."

We were silent for the following fifteen minutes, and then for another ten after our food arrived. As he drowned his fries in a combination of ketchup and steak sauce, he finally asked, "You want me to go with you?"

"Nah.. I mean, thanks, but I'm a big boy."

"Right. That's what they all say. Until they remember that he can make Superman's knees shake."

I paused, watched as he stuffed a few large steak fries into his mouth. In his current state, I doubted he would offer any support but I replied, "Actually, if you don't have anything else to do…"

^V^

As we had agreed at lunch, I met Tim at his and Cass's place in Bryanttown in order to drive up to the Manor together. He offered to drive and seeing how I was missing my post-dinner, pre-patrol nap for his little mission, I gladly accepted.

He didn't say a word the entire drive up, even as I tinkered with his stereo system. I did my best to relax despite his silence but I always found it unnerving. When I first worked on stakeouts with Bruce all those years ago, I had to literally bite my tongue to keep from talking and blowing our cover. But there had been nothing I could do about my constant fidgeting…

When we pulled up the drive, it was just after seven-thirty. I hadn't been up to the Manor in a few weeks and I was surprised to see that the main flower bed had been completely redone with a wide array of tulips. Although there were part-time caretakers that mowed, clipped hedges and tended to the fall leaves, Alfred was adamant that the decorative touches were his and his alone.

Tim pulled around to the side and parked near the garage before quickly cutting the engine and stepping out of the car. After I did the same, I followed him through the service entrance to the small area between the kitchen and the pantry. The scent of garlic and chicken was still in the air and I suddenly wished we had gone up earlier for dinner.

Passing through the kitchen, there was no sign of life aside from a small collection of potted herbs on the large windowsill over the kitchen sink. When Selina and Alfred had the room remodeled earlier that summer, Bruce had not been previously warned hence he had not approved. At first anyway. He never could stay angry at Selina for too long, even before they were married.

As we made our way into the corridor, I heard the faintest of sounds coming from the front of the massive house, towards the den. Then the laughter of the most adorable little girl I knew. Just as we headed in her direction, I heard a voice from behind me, "Gentlemen."

We turned to see Bruce armed with a bowl of carrot, green pepper and celery sticks and a small dish of what looked like ranch dressing. Seeing as we had just come from the kitchen, I was suddenly confused as to how he would have picked up his bounty without our detecting. Then I remembered he practically invented cloak and dagger.

Tim spoke first, showing no surprise that Bruce had snuck up on us, "I was wondering if we could go over something, downstairs."

Bruce sighed slightly before nodding, "Let me drop this off with Selina. I'll meet you down there."

He walked passed us without another word and disappeared out of sight. I glanced over to Tim and asked, "How the hell did he…?"

"I thought I heard the refrigerator door shut as we walked into the house. He must have slipped into the hall just as we walked into the kitchen."

I shook my head and turned down the hall towards the study, "He's a little too good at that. I still think he's part vampire."

Tim snickered and replied, "Part? I'd say at least three-quarters."

The chilly air in the Cave caused a wave of goose bumps to wash over my skin as we descended the stairs to the main floor. Tim took the main chair before the computer and started bringing up the file we had filled with anything and everything related to the arson attacks. With Firefly safely tucked away in Arkham on a fairly heavy load of Thorazine, we regrettably had to face the fact that someone else was behind the fires, someone new.

And someone even worse.

I had dealt with Firefly off and on over the years but deep down, he was just a pyromaniac that would love to see the world enveloped in flame. Whoever was sneaking behind our backs, setting fire to populated buildings with a finer sense of selection as well as style was not in it for fun. The source of our most recent aggravation was making a pretty penny, and we had yet to find out whom.

We spent the better part of an hour skimming the file, tossing ideas back and forth, checking in with Barbara and were half tempted to suit up while waiting for Bruce. Just as I made a move towards the costume vault, I heard firm footfalls on the granite steps, echoing just loud enough to disturb a cluster of bats overhead. I returned to stand beside Tim as Bruce came into view. When we had seen him earlier that evening, he had been wearing a slate blue fitted dress shirt and a pair of dark slacks. As he approached us, I noticed he had changed into charcoal black jeans and a turtleneck sweater of a similar hue.

Batman LL Bean style.

When neither of us spoke, Bruce cleared his throat and asked, "Well?"

Tim nodded and instead of the shaky voice I had expected to hear, he spoke smoothly and with confidence, "We exhausted our resources within the city, every snitch, every lookout has been unable to bring any dirt to the surface on this arson case."

Bruce nodded as he crossed his arms over his broad chest as if to say, Proceed.

Tim did, while taking his seat at the computer once more, rapidly typing to bring up the bland profile we had put together, "Given the nature and level of the fires, we all know this is a high-class arson working alone or with a very well-guarded and maintained crew."

"Agreed," Bruce said before continuing, "Oracle, bring up the most recent list of possible suspects."

In the brief silence that passed as Barbara worked her magic, I took a moment to glance over the profile. Male, Caucasian, 25-35, middle class with a slightly above normal IQ. Possible history of family emotional or physical abuse problems, just this side of being a social misfit in the fact that he would be more of a loner, lack of remorse to those affected by his actions, possible OCD tendencies, possible previous arrests in revenge or extortionist based activities.

Lots of possible facts, not a lot of concrete evidence.

Although there were traces of explosives and accelerants, there was no indication as to who had put them there. No salvageable security videos, no eyewitnesses, no related robberies of chemicals and supplies. The thugs we busted on the streets even were clueless, many of them wanting in on the action.

Tim and I were hoping one of them would be able to get a piece of the pyro pie.

"The list of suspects is still monstrously big and we can only do so much legwork to narrow it down until we found something specific about the particular fires. So what I..." he looked back to me, "What we were thinking was that if we could get to some of these criminals on a personal level, we might find out more accurate information. After all, since interrogating isn't working, perhaps socializing might."

Bruce remained stoic and I wondered if Tim was going to ask him right out or keep talking in circles.

Luckily, before Tim was forced to, Bruce nodded, "I understand Matches Malone is up for parole at the Penitentiary upstate."

Tim smiled, "I've heard the same. And that he's had nothing but excellent behavior reports for the last four years. Getting released should be a piece of cake."

"Well hopefully his time out of the city has washed him of that lame accent," I muttered, playing along with their charade.

Bruce glared at me and asked, "Excuse me?"

"Oh, come one, Bruce, when you start speaking with that flat, nasal New Jersey accent you sound exactly like one of The Sopranos."

It had been probably more than four years since Bruce had donned his outdated suit, scuffed glasses and thin moustache and since he uttered a single syllable as Matches. But right there, right in front of us, he cleared his throat, cocked his left leg and replied, "You aw-tta watch your mouth, kid. You nev-ah know who's listenin'."

The only thing that took away from it, aside from the lack of costuming, was the matchstick absent from the corner of his mouth.

^V^

"You're joking?"

As Dick swallowed a mouthful of paella from the new Spanish eatery three blocks from the Clocktower, he nodded, "It was too easy Barbara, I think he was expecting us to ask him… You didn't give him a head's up did you?"

I smirked as he spooned in another mound of rice far too big for his mouth. Even though dawn was an hour away, we sat in the kitchen eating leftovers from the previous night's dinner. He had just returned from patrolling Bludhaven after completing a few hours of touring Gotham. When he had called a little after midnight to say he was heading to his old stomping grounds, I was slightly put off, knowing he wouldn't be home until well passed daybreak. Not because I was worried about him getting home safely but because I wanted to hear all about Bruce's triumphant return to his criminal counterpart.

As Batman, there had only been so much he could learn from criminals through verbally and physically abusive interrogations. After assuming the identity of the deceased small-time mobster, Batman was finally able to get into the heart of Gotham's underground without scaring off possible sources. Although he wasn't hugely accepted, the resurrected Matches Malone worked under a few big name villains, including Scarface. A penchant for having a quick temper and even a quicker sucker punch, Matches eventually gained the respect of others, even though it was Batman doing the talking.

Shortly before Bruce retired, he had me put a big deal into works that had Matches being arrested for attempted arson of the city court house. Instead of being sent to Blackgate where he would have far too many friends, he was relocated to an undisclosed maximum security facility upstate where he would hopefully be rehabilitated. At the time, I was uncertain for his reasoning but not three weeks alter he stepped down, offering the cowl to Tim.

But Matches was Bruce and Bruce alone.

Tim had never shown any sincere interest in developing his own undercover identity, or even claiming his previous role as punk teenager Alvin Draper. Then again, aside from Hades, we had yet to face an opponent that would require a vigilante to hit up the local slum holes for information sans mask.

I let Dick finish his first plate and took the time as he filled another to ask, "So, what's the game plan?"

"We need to get word on the street that Matches made parole and is heading back into the city. Figure after a week of words flying around, Bruce can get to work, hitting up some of the regulars and get some rumors flying that he wants in on the action."

"And if the arson bites?"

He mixed up the steaming rice and seafood and replied, "Then Bruce has a front row seat to solving this case."

"And you think Selina is going to let him go face to face with a man responsible for over fifty deaths?"

He went to take a bit but set his fork down slowly. After a moment he spoke, "He said he would talk to her. He was sure she would understand…"

"Sure?"

He shrugged and blew a lock of hair off of his face, "Pretty sure."

My left eyebrow rose involuntarily as I sat back and played with my glass of green tea. He asked if I thought Selina would be upset and I shrugged, "I can't really say. If anything, she might want in on it… you, know, to keep an eye on him."

Dick laughed out loud, nearly choking on a big mouthful of food. He managed to swallow, took my tea and washed it down, "He would never let her do that---."

"Then why should she let him?" He opened his mouth to reply and I interrupted, "And if you say because he was Batman so help me…"

"I wasn't going to say that," he said, "I mean, well that's why he wouldn't let her but it's more than that… Remember after a while back, a few months after Mattie was born, when she snuck into the city in her Catwoman suit?"

"Yeah, I talked to her on the comm. link. Told her we should have staged a burglary."

He shook his head and smirked before saying, "Well, I guess afterwards, they had some huge fight back at the Manor. Alfred had them talk it out in the den and overheard their resolution. Bruce didn't want Selina on the streets because if something happened to both of them…"

"Mattie would have been an orphan…" I spoke softly.

"Exactly. Alfred said it was heartbreaking, listening as Bruce told Selina that he couldn't live if something happened to her, if he couldn't save her."

My mind shot back to when Nathan had been born on our wedding day, the look of Bruce's face when he first glanced over Selina's unconscious form after her surgery. The fear in his eyes as they fought back tears.

He offered to clean up and I called in a message to the firm telling Dad that Dick would be in around noon or so. After nearly eight hours on the streets of two notoriously bad cities, he deserved a break. I turned down the blankets, closed the black out drapes and then changed into cotton shorts and a matching olive green tee shirt before climbing into bed. Not three minutes later, Dick yawned loudly as he passed through the bedroom door, hitting the lights off.

After he settle din beside me, he patted his left pectoral and I smirked as I nestled in against him, laying my head on his chest. "So, when I'm old and gray, would you let me go undercover amongst evil bad guys?"

"Only if you promise to come back in one old and gray piece."

"You really do love me," he snickered.

"Not if you don't go to sleep in the next five minutes."

He muttered something about "until death do us part" before kissing my head and sighing. Within in minutes he was snoring loud enough that I decided to roll away from him and bury my head under the pillows.

Despite getting to bed late, I found myself waking up well before my ten o' clock alarm. Dick must have had an active night of dreaming as he was twisted in the sheets and his leg was hanging off of the bed. After getting up, I tried to reposition his leg but he kicked out at me and I left him, "Well then…"

I went about setting toasting an English muffin before picking which flavored coffee to put in the machine. When I settled on Mountain Fresh, I heard the phone ring. I grabbed on the second ring and answered, "Hello?"

"Barbara, it's Selina… Did I wake you?"

"Oh no, just started making breakfast."

She paused before asking, "Need any help?"

Slightly confused, I replied, "I could go for some of your cranberry orange muffins… Where are you?"

"I just parked next to your gas guzzler; I'll be up in a minute."

She hung up on me and as I replaced the phone to the wall mounted charger, I realized I should have been more shocked that Selina had driven from Bristol to downtown Gotham at eight in the morning on a Friday. But as she let herself into the apartment two minutes later, I greeted her with a smile, "Sorry, couldn't find any cranberries, you'll have to settle for making cinnamon crumb muffins."

We shared small talk for the twenty minutes it took to make omelets and muffins. After taking our places at the kitchen table, Selina added a spoonful of sugar to her coffee before staring at it silently.

I finally asked, "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your bright and early company?"

She added another spoonful, stirred, sipped then looked up at me, her green eyes swirling with emotion, "I take it you know about this whole undercover thing they want Bruce to do."

I nodded, not sure what else to say.

"He told me, after he came up from the Cave… it must have been after midnight or so… I was reading in bed and he came in, changed and got into bed… All without saying a word… without even looking at me. I knew something was wrong, so I asked if something had happened with the case Tim and Dick are working on and he said…"

Selina paused for a minute, looking down at her mug before continuing, "He said there was nothing to worry about, that he would just be gathering information. I knew he was lying; he could never lie to me… But I was waiting for him to say something about how they needed his help and that the city needed him… but… Barbara, he told me that if I didn't want him to do it, he wouldn't."

I stared at her, shocked. Eventually I found myself asking, "What did you tell him?"

"Well, first I told him if he based his judgments on what I thought he'd be wearing purple underwear on Thursdays and he'd have no qualms about taking possession of expensive items without payment."

I smirked, knowing that Selina's humor would have made Bruce's face go slack in surprise.

"Then I told him that if he didn't dress up as Mr. Malone that I would have to go as Mrs. Malone."

I laughed, knowing that would have made Bruce offer and grunt of disapproval.

^V^

"I'm not wearing Kevlar, Alfred."

"Very well, sir, but you are sorely mistaken if I'm going to sew your bullet riddled form back together once more."

We had just finished adding the final touches to my disguise, tinting my hair a dark brown but leaving some of the gray to add the necessary years Matches needed. The moustache was slightly thicker than it once had been and I had gone the extra mile to wear a slightly better suit, poor fitted of course but at least something from the last decade.

After checking in with Oracle, I rose from the computer station to select a car from the garage. Alfred, who had used his previous theatrical make up skills to help with the hair dye and moustache, cleared his throat in a way that stopped me in my tracks. When I turned to face him, I spotted Selina approaching from the stairs, an unreadable look on her face.

I let her walk up to me, finally spotting a sly smile on her lips. When she reached me, she adjusted the lapel of my dark blazer before saying, "You know what's missing?"

"What?" I asked, my voice still my own.

"An unruly amount of bad cologne."

I allowed myself to smirk, "Good call."

Alfred, who was gracefully overhearing our conversation nodded and spoke aloud, "I'll see to it at once, sir."

As he rummaged through the large stainless steel tote of undercover materials, I felt Selina's hands slip down the front of my chest before taking a hold of both of my hands. Her fingers were warm against the rough skin of my palms. Before I could tell her anything to try to set to rest any of her concerns or worries, she let my right hand go in order to hold my left hand in both of hers.

We looked down together as she traced the wedding band on my ring finger.

Taking my hand from hers, I removed it, pulling hard to get it over my large knuckle. I then placed it in her hand before raising it, kissing to top of her hand, "For safe keeping," I said.

She looked up into my eyes, her smirk suddenly forced. Instead of replying with words, she simply leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. Before I could kiss her back, she pulled away and began walking back towards the stairs.

It had been a nightly ritual since I had taken to working undercover as Matches over the last two weeks. More often than not, she would watch as Alfred transformed me into a completely different human being with the slightest of artistic touches. The first night had been the hardest as I had returned home a little before three in the morning sporting a few bruises and a good sized laceration on the back of my head from a bar fight I had managed to start.

Since then, I had been dishing out the beatings rather than taking them.

But the late nights and aggravation. Of my time in the city and the months that had proceeded it, had finally paid off. I had put word on the streets that Matches wanted in on something big to honor his return to Gotham. With his reputation as muscle, skill and knowledge, I had expected the offer to come much sooner.

The previous night, Matches had been sitting in a bar among a few of his former comrades when a short but well-built man came up and spoke in his ear, "My employer would wish to have a word with you."

Matches had informed the gentleman in the black tailored suit that he had to take a leak but would be more than happy to hear what his employer had to say. In the confines of the bathroom I had contacted both Oracle and Tim via the cell-phone version of the comm. link before promptly flushing all of the wires and recording devices I had brought with me. Returning to the bar, I was escorted by Shorty through the front door where a black Escalade was parked, still running.

After being firmly encouraged into the backseat of the car, I was introduced to a man with a slight New England accent, a smooth bald head, leather padded gloves and a pair of metallic goggles.

"Good evening, Mr. Malone."

And of course Matches with his impeccable manners had replied, "I don't know about Mistah but you can call me Matches. And you would be Mistah…?"

"Icarus."

"What kind of a name is that?"

"What kind of a name is Matches?"

"Touché."

For the next three hours, Matches had ridden around in the company of Icarus, being offered a position in his team. He had lost a man in the last arson after not making it out of the building before detonation. In need of work but more importantly in need of a good time, Matches had accepted.

But despite searches made through VICAP and Interpol, I was unable to match the face and voice of the man in the backseat. He had given Matches a business card with an address printed on it but it had no fingerprints of viable information. The address was either a target or a meeting ground, but either way it was a location that needed to be kept a close watch on.

I was to meet Icarus and the team at 3423 State Avenue at ten after midnight. Batgirl was in charge of sneaking into the condemned building to set up a number of camera and audio recorders as well as laser sensors to mark activities. She, along with Nightwing and Batman would them hold different vantage stakeout points from the exterior of the building. If it was simply a holding place, then they would follow me to wherever the target location was.

If it was indeed the target location, then they would act accordingly.

After donning too much of the over eager cologne Alfred had managed to find, I glanced at my fake Rolex to see it was just before midnight. Perfect timing. When I looked up at Alfred he managed a smile, "Dashing to the last, Master Bruce."

I found myself speeding towards Gotham moments later. At the rate I was going, I would seven minutes early. Not bad for the first day of a new job. On the way, I forced my mind to move away from Bruce Wayne and into the shady territory of Matches Malone.

When I pulled up to the large residential apartment on State Street, I cut the ignition, unbuckled and popped in a fresh match stick. Sans Kevlar, weapon or any tracking devices, I stepped out of the car and headed inside. My only protection was that in the form of three masked figures up high on rooftops.

"Matches, you're just in time," a soft voice greeted me.

I turned to my left to see Short, dressed in black from head to toe. Without another word, he turned down a dark corridor and I was quick to follow him. "So what exactly is goin' on tonight?"

The nameless man smiled as he looked back at me form over his shoulder, "Just taking care of some business for Icarus."

"Business? I hate paperwork."

The short man snickered, "Oh no, not that kind of business, this is more… Hands on."

We passed through an open metal door and began to descend steel steps into the basement. A number of other voices echoed in the large empty space and I spotted the soft glow of spot lights. As we neared the small cluster of men, I spotted the shiny head of the leader and offered him a curt nod before working the match stick from one corner of my mouth to the other.

It was then that I noticed it, massive drums lined up in a row, with tubes running up into a long since emptied water pipe system. From the faint scent in the air, I deduced that it was some sort of liquid nitro-methane to help spread the fire from the basement to ever corner of the building.

The man who had ushered me into this mess spoke, "Matches, let me introduce you everyone. Ziggy," a squat bulldog faced man who was holding the light source, "Killswitch," a man wearing a ski mask and magnifying head set as he tinkered with a series of wires connected to the massive explosive system, "Crank," a massive man that had pectorals ready to burst through his Nomex shirt, "And Mortimer," a nervous being that kept eye balling either Icarus, the bomb or myself.

I nodded at each of them but showed no other sign of cordiality. I then looked over the explosive once more, "Talk about packin' some heat."

Icarus smiled softly before nodding, "Quite so. We have most of the block wired and ready to go. Before the night is over, this entire street will be rubble."

"A whole street? I thought I was ambitious."

He smiled again before approaching me, "You are, or so I've heard. Let's take a walk." He escorted me back towards the stairs, out of hearing range of the others. "My main concern is that I feel I've lost the confidence of one of my men… Mortimer's been warning us all week about not doing this job… I think maybe, he's ratted us out and then has had second thoughts. Your job is to keep an eye on him, and if anything fishy happens, take him out."

I nodded and cleared my throat, "If that's my job, than what's with all of the…" I pointed to the bomb.

"Of no concern to you. We… simply help our investors in purchasing high-priced properties at a much lower cost. Simple real estate."

With that, he led us back to the group and offered me a slight nod. I understood clearly and moved a little closer to Mortimer, a man half of my size. In a forced silence, we watched on as Killswitch added the final touches before declaring, "All set, Icarus."

"Excellent," he glanced at his watch before announcing, "Let's bring the time up, shall we? Since we are running ahead of schedule. Say, half past?"

I couldn't help but wonder half-past what? My phony watch put it at 12:22 AM.

"Half-past it is," Killswitch grumbled.

As we made our way up the stairs, single file, I heard glass shattering before the hissing of smoke bombs. Several of the men cursed in unison, each offering their own colorful word. They each drew out weapons and began firing back out the windows before the tear gas forced them to their knees, hacking and heaving. In order to not stand out, I followed suit, doing my best to feign agony.

"Mortimer!" Icarus screamed, "Traitor!"

The poor man stammered and stumbled to the ground, cowering at his leader's feet. The poor man was just anxious about his line of work, there had been no sign that he had ever spoken to the police. A scapegoat for another deserter in their midst. I turned to see Icarus' men fleeing the building, no doubt running face first into several gloved fists. When I looked back to my left, I was just in time to see a goggles sporting figure through the haze shoving the crying form of Mortimer down into the basement, promptly before locking the door.

As Icarus ran towards me, I asked, "You're leavin' him?"

He paused, hacked and then managed, "Think of it as a dungeon. That's where the bad guys go, right?"

Ignoring the ticking second hand on my watch, or the cries of pain from outside, I punched the bald man square between the eyes, shattering his goggles. His hazel eyes rolled up into his head and he fell to the ground like the pile of human garbage he was.

I dragged him out of the building and tossed him into the street. Taking a moment, I caught a quick glance of Batman diving into Crank's solid midsection headfirst before going back inside. I didn't have anything to unlock the door so I simply kicked it in, sending a jolt of fire up my left leg. I called out Mortimer's name three times before finding him, balled up, bleeding and sneezing to the left of the bottom of the stairs. After checking his vitals, I raced over to the bomb.

There were splatters of blood on the floor and I realized he had managed to not only stumble his way to the bomb but that he had been able to disconnect the trigger that no doubt caused the other explosives to detonate. There was no visible timer on the bomb in front of me but I wasn't taking any chances that he didn't disable it.

After throwing him over my shoulder, I took the stairs two at a time, making it into the corridor I had entered for the first time not thirty minutes earlier minutes earlier. As I ran towards the exit, I felt my left knee buckle and I growled before stumbling to the ground. Mortimer tumbled and rolled onto the tiled floor but it didn't deter him from sneezing or coughing.

Instinctively, I tried to stand but screamed in agony when my leg gave way again. I had used too much force in my haste to open the door. Had I been a younger man, a man who did not have artificial knee joints, I would have strained the muscles but nothing worse.

But I was not a younger man.

I tried once more to rise but then fell to the cold floor, my teeth gritting in pain. If I had the time, I would have wrapped the joint to stabilize the kneecap that had most likely slipped out of place. Then I would have been able to at least limp down the hall, Mortimer's crying form on my shoulder, out into the safety of the street.

Instead, I felt a rumble below me and then watched as a flash of heat and light as it made the world go very bright.

And then very dark.

^V^

I didn't remember driving to Leslie's.

I was on the phone with Barbara, listening to how the bust had gone horribly wrong.

And there I was, sitting in Bruce's car, the one that smelled of his rich cologne, parked in the small lot behind the clinic.

I knew that Alfred had agreed to watch over the children until morning and then after they were at school would head down to the Clinic. But I had no idea when I had asked him…

The only thing I knew for sure was that my husband was lying in a gurney mere hours after I had kissed him good-bye.

After what had seemed like an eternity, I managed to step out of the car and take the first tentative steps towards the rear entrance. I had worn black leggings and a tank top to bed but before leaving I had grabbed the wool sweater Bruce had worn earlier in the day, needing something to take the chill out of my spine.

The other nights he had gone out, I had actually had a good feeling about it. He was back doing what he loved. Even before he had retired, when he had gone out for patrols, I had some worry but never a gut-wrenching fear. But when I had taken his wedding band that night, I knew something bad was going to happen.

Feline instinct and all.

The corridor that led to the main part of the clinic was well-lit despite the hour. I passed the storage closet and paused just outside of a room that Bruce, as well as the others, knew all too well. Listening carefully, I heard Dick's voice, muted through the door. After taking a deep breath, I knocked lightly and waited.

Instead of Dick greeting me, it was Tim, cowl pulled back showing his face tormented with worry. He suddenly forced a weak smile and said, "Come in."

Choosing not to look over the faces in the room, I simply looked towards the gurney. Cassandra, who was sitting next to Bruce's unconscious form rose quietly and moved out of the way. I vaguely heard Leslie telling everyone to leave and then the shuffle of feet as they did as ordered. I reached out and took his left hand into mine, squeezing the cold fingers.

It was then that a set of warm fingers touched my shoulder. I knew it was Leslie before I looked back at her, and I did my best to smile.

"He's suffered a pretty severe concussion. When the explosion ripped through the building, it knocked out a section of the second ground floor that ended up collapsing on him. It may not seem so, but it was actually the only reason he's alive. Had the fire gotten to him…"

I managed to nod without letting any tears fall.

She continued, "There a few rib fractures but nothing that rest won't fix. Some internal bruising but thankfully no excessive hemorrhaging. Minor first degree burns to his arms and chest … and a number of lacerations. The right wrist is sprained, not broken, but I set it in a cast so that he would be more likely to let it heal."

Listening to her list off his injuries, I followed my eyes, from one wound to the next. When my eyes caught the hint of a leg brace under the sheets, she was quick to explain, "He dislocated the knee cap. I managed to reposition it but there was quite a bit of swelling. I did an ultrasound, there's no tear in the ligaments or tendons but it will be a while before he's on his feet."

Despite the fact that I had seen him in such a state so many times before, I couldn't keep back the hot tears as they slipped down my cheeks. I cried, silently, grasping his limp hand, waiting for him to squeeze back. Leslie replaced her hand on my shoulder, "He'll be all right, Selina."

"I know," I managed.

She stayed with me until my eyes had run dry before excusing herself to check in with the others. A while after she left, my breath caught when his eyelids fluttered but when I said his name aloud he showed no response. Not five minutes later, I heard a faint rap at the door before heavy soled boots moved as quietly as possible. How many times had I heard a similar pair of boots approach me from behind, followed by a dark growl…

"Selina?" Tim asked quietly.

I nodded but for some reason I didn't look back at him.

He stepped up beside me, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Tim. He's more than capable of doing this to himself."

Tim paused briefly before adding, "We got them. The entire group. They had the whole block lined up with explosives but for some reason only the one building blew. If Bruce hadn't acted, who knows how many lives would have been lost."

A small piece of comfort considering Bruce's current condition.

"I saw him, right before it happened… he had thrown out one of the suspects before going back in. I thought at first he was going to disarm the bomb, but Oracle spotted him on one of the cameras, going back in for the last man…."

"Did she see what happened?"

"Some of the cameras were useless after we threw in tear gas. But the one near the exit, showed Bruce falling before the explosion. I think… I think he hurt his leg when he kicked the door in to save the last suspect. I had her send me the clip and… He kept trying to get up and… He couldn't. Every time he fell back down I… Selina, it killed me knowing I put him in there, that I made him do it…"

I finally looked back to see that tears were welling in his crystal blue eyes. I rose, leaving Bruce's hand behind, before making Tim look directly into my eyes. A single tear slipped over his cheek bone and I managed to say, "You didn't do this, Tim. You can't blame yourself for everything that happens. God knows he's tortured himself the same way his entire life. I don't want to have to see you do the same."

He nodded before reluctantly reaching up to wipe his eyes with a gloved hand. I reached behind him and pulled the cowl back over his head, adjusting it before telling him, "Now get your ass back out there and take your aggravation out on some dirt bags."

"Yes, ma'am," he growled.

I stood; facing the doorway long after Tim had left. Before turning to sit in the chair again, I asked out loud, "How long have you been awake?"

Bruce's hoarse voice replied, "Not long."

"Long enough to see me cry like a big baby?" I asked, taking a seat beside him on the gurney.

He nodded, winced and then coughed repeatedly. When I tired to leave to get him a glass of water, he shook his head before gripping my hand with his. A weak hold that I could have easily escaped.

"Big, beautiful baby," he managed. No doubt smoke inhalation was also on Leslie's clipboard of ailments. When I didn't reply to his dry humor, he asked, "Bad?"

"You'll live."

"Good to hear."

I went quiet again, but kept my gaze aimed at him. Whether it was because he was too sore to move or because he was truly happy to be alive enough to see me, he looked right back at me.

"The others?"

"Back to work, no rest for the weary."

"Tim… he…"

"He'll be fine. It's not everyday you see your hero fall to his knees."

Bruce looked away briefly before replying, "I'm sorry… I didn't think that---."

"Don't make me give you the same lecture I gave Tim. You know how much I hate repeating myself."

He smirked, fought to hold back a wince and then sighed heavily. Leslie had said nothing of the medication she had given him but considering his state he was no doubt pumped full of analgesics.

Spontaneously, I reached into the small pocket of my leggings and retrieved his wedding band. After carefully slipping it onto his finger, I said, "I'm giving this back to you on one condition?"

"Which is?"

"If your new friends ever rough you up like this again, at least let me have a crack at them before they're arrested. Do you understand?"

Despite the bruises, burns and battered bones, eh managed a true smile as he replied, "I do."

^V^


	16. What Lieas Ahead: XVI

Title: What Lies Ahead: XVI

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: A month after Bruce's injuries the Family draws together to celebrate Thanksgiving.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note:

^V^

At ten after five in the morning, I woke with a start, sitting upright in bed fast enough to make my head spin. I reached over to Bruce's side of the bed, concerned when my fingertips didn't meet either the cast on his right arm or his bandaged torso. Just as I was about to get out of bed, I noticed the bedroom door open before his figure appeared.

"Miss me?" he asked quietly, doing his best to hobble the distance from the door to the bed on one foot, sans crutches. I glanced over to his side of the bed to see that they were leaning against the nightstand, just where he had left them when we had gone to be the night before.

"What part of promising to follow doctor's orders don't you understand?" I growled, but the humor in my voice removed any threat from my words.

After he finally sat beside me, Bruce sighed while lifting his left leg onto the bed, imprisoned in a thigh to calf brace. "Nathan woke up but I changed and fed him, put him back to bed."

"Are you going to put me back to bed?"

He paused before reclining back onto the pillows, "I can barely put myself back to bed."

After lying beside him, I reached over and traced the colorful cast that embraced his wrist. When Bruce had come home after spending two days at the clinic, Mattie and Nathan saw fit to make sure every inch of the cast was decorated. I had walked into the bedroom, not long after getting him settled in to see the children laying about him, markers hard at work.

He had been so out of it from the concussion that he hadn't noticed until the next day.

In lieu of upsetting the children any more than necessary, I had told them that their father was away on business for a few days, planning on dealing with the injuries when he was ready to come home. Leslie had intended him to stay much longer than forty-eight hours but we eventually agreed that it would be best for everyone, especially the kids, if he was at home.

The day he came home, I had Alfred take Mattie and Nathan into school so that I could get things ready for Bruce. Dick had volunteered to drive him up, of which I was most grateful for. They arrived a little after ten in the morning and Dick had to lift Bruce in order to get him into his wheelchair. All the while Bruce arguing he was capable of doing it himself, even with a busted leg, a busted arm, floating rib pieces and a knot on his head the size of a golf ball…

Leslie had ordered him to at least two weeks of bed rest, followed by another two weeks of limited mobility as long as he used his crutches. He had actually managed to stay in bed for seven days before I found him in the study reading old newspapers from the week before. But dealing with a bedridden Bruce had not come as too much of a challenge. After all, I had experience in dealing with his infirm form. Too much experience.

The hardest part had been telling the children.

We had played it up as a car accident, no doubt further embedding into their minds that their father was the worst driver in the history of the combustion engine. Nathan had yet to really question the scars on Bruce's body and was more worried about kissing his father's Boo-Boo's all better.

Mattie on the other hand…

I brought them both into the bedroom to see him for the first time together. Out right, he didn't look that bad. A bruise on his left temple, his arms sporting what looked like sunburn and then the small mid arm cast keeping his right wrist immobilized in addition to the IV catheter in his left hand. The blankets covered the miles of gauzes keeping his broken ribs in check, the leg brace and the countless lacerations over the rest of his body.

Bruce was fairly coherent and smiled as Nathan kissed the cast and tried to kiss the rest of his injuries. He then grew bored and went about trying to jump on the bed. I picked him up and took him down the hall to his room, where Dick had so graciously given him a small exercise trampoline as a First Day of Pre-School gift. I stayed with my son for nearly a half of an hour as he practiced being a kangaroo, giving Mattie and Bruce some time alone.

Later that night, after they were tucked in, I had checked in with Bruce and found him sleeping as peacefully as a recently crushed body could sleep. I took the opportunity to inject the preset dosage of morphine into his IV bag, knowing full well he wouldn't let me do it otherwise.

When I had changed and slipped under the covers, he sighed, "That was sneaky."

"Mrrow…"

He snickered softly before sighing. I asked him how it had gone with Mattie and he said, "She's too smart for her own good."

"Well, she is her father's daughter…"

He went on to explain that Mattie had sat beside him and when he had asked her if she was okay, she had replied, "Were you really in a car accident?"

He had been surprised, "Why would you ask that, kitten?"

"Well, if you were, wouldn't it be in the newspaper?"

"No, I don't like everyone knowing I'm a big klutz."

She had paused, bit her lip and continued, "Did the same thing happen to you that made you have your other scars?"

He had admitted to me as we had laid in bed that first night that he didn't know what to say to her. Just as when she had been suspended from school for fighting off two bullies. He was unable to lecture her about using violence, even for good, when he had nearly spent his entire life doing the same.

"I didn't want to lie to her but I had to."

After reassuring her that it was a car accident and that everything would be fine, she had gone quiet for a long time, looking over his various injuries. She had finally smirked, "I bet Mom's mad."

"Why's that?" he had asked.

"Because now she has to chaperone the school Halloween party without you."

And even a month later, Mattie had yet to talk about her concerns as to whether or not we were lying to her. I hoped it was because she had far too many other things to worry about, such as school and slumber parties and her growing ceramic horse figure collection. But I dreaded that she was bottling it all up, only to let it out when she was a teenager.

Or when she found out the truth.

Whichever came first.

Bruce cleared his throat before asking, "When was the appointment?"

"Eleven."

"Did you want to go?"

"If I don't, I know you won't go. And if you don't go, you won't have the cast taken off and then you'll take it off yourself with one of your Bat-gadgets and then I'll have a one-handed husband."

"I'm ambidextrous, I can easily---."

"You're out of practice." The look on his face said I was out of line. We hadn't really talked about how badly things had gone in the undercover work he did as Matches Malone. I knew it was a tender subject, a realization that he couldn't even pretend to be a normal human being with out getting hurt let alone acting as a feared vigilante…

I apologized, "I'm sorry, Bruce, I didn't mean it like that…"

He shook his head and stared at the ceiling, "No, don't… It's fine. Really."

The way his brow furrowed and the frustrated look in his eyes said that it wasn't fine.

Really.

^V^

Despite the fact that Bruce was notoriously late to medical appointments, I was surprised to see him and Selina step into my office at ten of eleven. No doubt Selina had played a small role in such promptness. I was also happy to see that Bruce had used his crutches despite it being the last day of his forced immobilization. Again, another intervention by his wife, no doubt.

Following his latest attempt at crime fighting, I found myself torn between lecturing him for endangering his life and for lecturing Tim for encouraging Bruce to endanger his life. Unfortunately, I hadn't seen either of them since just after the incident and had yet to speak my mind. I had, however, spent many early morning hours on the phone with Alfred.

He too had been concerned when Bruce so willingly stepped out of his retirement in order to work with Batman. There was no doubt in my mind that he felt he was more than able to perform the basics tasks required for undercover work. Alfred had pointed out that when he had returned home from his first night out that he had been bloodied and bruised, as if it was a twisted baptism.

But he was reborn only to fall again…

When Oracle had called to tell me they needed me, she had distinctly said that Batman had been in an explosion. Later I had realized her error but while waiting, I had prepared myself to see Tim's Kevlar padded form bruised, perhaps a few burns, but nothing worse for the wear. Therefore, I nearly lost my composure to see Bruce's unmoving and bleeding form in Dick's arms…

Although severely injured, I had to admit that Bruce had seemed fairly pleased with himself when he woke. I had warned him that another knee replacement may be required if more damage surfaced once the swelling diminished and he had simply nodded at me. It was as if he had reverted back to his old self, not caring what the costs were as long as the deed was done…

"Good morning, Leslie," Selina smiled, "Sorry we're early."

"No need to apologize, and besides, I bet you both have a busy afternoon."

As I passed them to lead the way back down the hall, I somehow managed to not look up at Bruce. I felt that if I made eye contact, I would lose hold of the pent up words I had been harboring for weeks.

Selina took Bruce's crutches from him as we entered the small exam room and situated herself in the chair by the door. With one hand, Bruce managed to push himself up to take a set on the exam bed. I finally faced him, and for some reason I said, "Let's start from head to toe, shall we?"

He smiled momentarily, recognizing the words I had used so many times to start his examinations as a young boy. With Thomas gone, I had volunteered to act as Bruce's medical doctor. Alfred always found a reason to bring him around for a check-up just before Valentine's Day…

Since Alfred had already removed the stitches of the numerous lacerations on Bruce's head and torso, I simply checked them over to see that the skin was healing smoothly. Not that Bruce had ever been worried about the cosmetic appearance of his flesh. I then palpated the site of the concussion, not too surprised to see there was a small dimple in his skull.

Without a word, I moved on to checking his neurological signs; sight, hearing, hand-eye coordination. Even though he mastered each of them before me, I couldn't help but think back to a time when he hadn't, when he didn't even know his name…

"So far, so good," I turned to one of the cabinets and retrieved a battery powered cast saw. When I took Bruce's encased arm into my hand, I admired the art work, "Are you sure you want me to cut this off? "

"Please," he replied.

Selina grinned, "Just think, Bruce, we can hang it on the fridge when we get home."

I smiled back at her before turning the small device on, filling the room with a loud whirring sound. Bruce's arm never moved once I set it into position, a feat that many were incapable of with a power saw aimed at their direction. As the cast slipped off, I placed it on the countertop, catching a waft of the stale smell only an encased appendage could yield. When I looked back, I saw Bruce flexing his fingers and wrist slowly.

"Better?"

"Much better."

I offered him some anti-bacterial soap and he went to work on rubbing it over his stagnant flesh. The room quickly went from smelling like a locker room to a germ-free locker room.

"All, right, let's take a look at those ribs…"

Bruce nodded slightly before unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off, letting it lay behind him across the bed. Even though I had seen his battered torso countless times, I still had to force myself to look at his most recent injuries and not at those of the decades before. The lacerations as well as the burns were nearly completely healed, a sign that he had not been allowed to pick at the scabs or itch the burns.

After retrieving a pair of bandage scissors from my coat pocket, I began to carefully cut through the adhesive gauze strapped to his torso, acting as a brace to support his damaged ribs. The bruising had turned to a mottled yellowish color, as had the contusions across his midsection. Barely noticeable unless you had seen the blackened flesh before it had healed.

"Can you lift your arms," I asked and he nodded, knowing all to well how to position them perpendicular to his body.

Firmly, I palpated each rib from spine to sternum. Usually he would be ale to mask any pain he felt but I would always be able to tell. He would hitch his breathing just slightly enough to go unnoticed by those who were not within six inches of him.

Once finished, I spoke, "There's still some tenderness on the eighth and ninth on this right side but the left side seems to be doing fine. Few deep breaths?"

I watched as he expanded his rib cage to the maximum, filling his deep lungs with oxygen. In his peak he could hold his breath for five minutes, but I was uncertain just how long he could hold it at the moment…

With those two ribs still edgy, I chose to listen to his lung sounds briefly, just to be certain there was no cause for concern. Once I was satisfied, I glanced down at his leg, "Last but not least…"

As I went about removing the Velcro straps I asked, "Can I assume this has been on the entire time?"

He took a moment to reply, "You may."

I glanced to Selina as she smirked, "He had it half off last Tuesday before I caught him."

I shook my head before noticing him giving a very Bat-like glare towards his beaming wife. "Now once I have the brace off I want you to try and keep your leg as straight as possible, I want to palpate the joint before you go and mess it up."

He nodded and held his leg as straight as a board.

"There's still a bit of swelling here but I don't want you to have it immobilized much longer… There's already a bit of muscle atrophy and I don't want to risk losing any more muscle mass that will help keep the joint held in place… I still can't believe you didn't tear anything Bruce…"

"Lucky me," he muttered.

"All right, try to bend it as slowly as possible." I watched the joint as he carefully brought his lower leg back until it was parallel with the end of the exam bed. No pop, no crunch, just one fluid movement. After testing flexion and reflexes for ten minutes, I had him stand and walk out the door and back, with the use of the crutches.

"There's a slight gait deviation but nothing that a few weeks of quadriceps strengthening won't fix."

Bruce nodded before asking, "Can I use the cane?"

"At least five days with the crutches then start to slowly introduce more weight. I'd say by Thanksgiving you could use a cane."

Another nod before he looked down at me, "Thank you, Leslie."

I tried to keep from smiling as I said, "No, thank you."

"For what?"

"Living."

^V^

I had planned on spending Sunday on the couch, lost in a House MD marathon. Instead of indulging in Hugh Laurie's unbeatable wit and charisma, I was at my father's house with Dick, helping him paint the dining room and den of his house.

And of course Frank, who had tried numerous times to climb into the paint pans, was locked safely away in Dad's bedroom, butting his head against the door and pretending that he was choking to death. A little trick I had learned the little dog had used to fulfill his every wish with my father.

In August, I had watched Frank for an entire week as Dad had been invited to speak at a Police Convention back in Chicago. He had been more than eager to return to his old stomping grounds but had not been keen on leaving Frank behind. I had eased his worries by volunteering to watch him. I even promised that Dick would take him to work during the day so that the little guy wouldn't lose too much of his daily routine.

The first day had been fine; Frank went with Dick for the day, came home for his kibble dinner and then napped loudly on the couch. But when it came time for my nightly ritual, I left Frank in the living room, shutting the door behind me, not wanting him perusing about my cyber sanctuary. At first he had been too occupied by the peanut butter filled bone I had given him but once that had devoured it, I heard the faintest scratching at the door, one which no human I could detect easily. Then whining followed by grumbles.

When I yelled at him to quit it he went silent.

And then the hacking game began.

I had raced over at once to see if he had perhaps swallowed the bone but to my utter surprise he dashed through the door and began sniffing about the many terminals under the worktable. After being tossed back into the hall, he went back to gurgling and whining before starting in with horrendous choking noises.

I had explained to Dad that it was a behavior he needed to ignore but I had found him far too often giving into the brindled dog.

And to think any time I threw a fit when I was younger, I was grounded.

"Barbara?"

I was adding some final touches to the white trim on the windows of the den when I heard my father's voice from the hall. I set the brush across the top of the small paint can and headed towards the doorway, "Yeah?"

"Oh, there you are," he said as he turned the hall. "Dick was thinking it's about lunch time."

"Dad, he had brunch three hours ago."

"I'm a growing boy!" Dick called from the dining room.

I wanted to yell back but instead, I said, "Well, Tim said he was going to drop by if we needed another hand, maybe he can bring something down."

"Sure, if he doesn't mind. We still have the three big walls in there to finish but at least the ceiling's done."

I took their orders, both of which had been Turkey Clubs on wheat with Dijon and horseradish sauce, and then called Tim's cell phone.

"Drake."

"Tim, it's Barbara."

"Hey, how goes the painting?"

"We're about a third of the way through. You still free to help?"

"Uh, yeah. Cass just left for the Manor to relieve Alfred of babysitting duty but I can come over if you need me."

"Mind picking up nourishment first?"

"Only if I can use the company credit card."

"Deal."

Forty minutes later, Tim walked into my father's house, arms full of brown paper bags and bottles of lemonade, iced tea and cola, "Food's here!"

Dick, who had been scrubbing his hands furiously at the kitchen sink, shut the water off, grabbed a paper towel and leapt out into the hallway in one fluid movement, amazingly not stepping on Frank as he dozed in the doorway. I shook my head, thinking that Dick would be sixty years old and doing handsprings down the hall…

"Smells good," Dad said as Tim fought his way into the kitchen, Dick more than eager to carry his own meal in.

"From this new place in Bryanttown," Tim explained as he unloaded the goods onto the table, "They make one hell of a roast beef melt."

We ate in near silence, Dick engulfing half of his club sandwich before my father had even removed the decorative toothpicks from his. I had told Tim to surprise me and he had, with a delicious grilled chicken sandwich with a potent habanera sauce. I noticed Tim had settled for a bowl of potato soup and a dripping corned beef sandwich.

Growing boy…

About halfway through lunch, conversation picked up as Tim asked, "You coming up for Thanksgiving, Jim?"

Dad nodded before wiping his moustache, "Wouldn't dream of missing one of Alfred's dinners."

Dick smiled, "Dinners? They could do battle with Roman feasts."

"That's for sure," Tim responded, "I was thinking about inviting my Dad and Dana, Selina said it was all right but with Bruce still pretty banged up…"

I filled my mouth with tea before interrupting, "He had the cast and brace taken of yesterday. Selina said he's up and moving around pretty well, considering."

Dad sighed quietly and stared down at the remained of his sandwich, as if it had suddenly gone from delicious turkey cold cuts and crisp bacon to putrid hog feed. The papers had done a well enough job giving credit for the capture of Icarus and his men to the police, even though they showed up to the criminals bound together, still struggling after breathing in tear gas and facing off with vigilantes.

Of course, Dad had known better and had asked me the following morning if anyone had been hurt. I had said that Bruce had been involved in undercover work and had been in the building when it had exploded. He had joked that Bruce had probably walked out without a scratch on him.

After I told him, he spent the better part of that afternoon sitting at Bruce's bedside as he was in and out of consciousness.

He never asked why Bruce had worked undercover or why it had gone wrong.

He just sat there, talking about the good old days.

Sometimes Bruce would respond.

Mostly he didn't.

"Well, that's good to hear," Dad finally said before picking his sandwich up again.

Dick nodded, "Yeah, nothing like having a cranky, cooped up Bruce for Turkey Day."

Between the four of us, we had the rest of the two rooms finished and the furniture moved back in before three that afternoon. While the boys fought with sofas and end tables, I offered to walk Frank around the block.

As the French Bulldog faced off with a large maple leaf, I felt my cell phone humming in my coat pocket. I answered just before my voicemail picked up, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Selina."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Alfred was just taking headcounts for Thursday. Your Dad was planning on coming, right?"

"Of course."

"Excellent," she paused before continuing, "Can I ask you a question, it's kind of personal?"

"What is it?"

"When did your Dad give you the big talk?"

I thought it was fairly random of her to ask but I managed to reply without hesitating, "Like fifth or sixth grade. Why?"

"Oh, well the kids are home for break for the rest of the week and the teacher sent notes home with everyone in Mattie's class asking for parent permission to enroll each child into a sexual education class that runs two weeks in December."

I watched on as Frank devoured the leaf he had conquered, "Well, a lot has changed since I was in grade school, and kids learn about these things earlier every passing year."

"That's what I was thinking. I haven't told Bruce about it yet; figure he has enough to worry about right now but… I have a plan… See, we made a deal that he would tell both of the kids about the birds and the bees, but I was thinking that I could put Mattie in this class, have her learn everything and then make Bruce still tell her anyway."

After listening to her devious scheme, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. I complimented her brilliance and told her to keep me posted on how it played out.

When we passed through the front door, I let Frank go and he began bounding down the hall following my father's voice. After I took my sweater off, I followed suit, entered the den just in time to overhear Dick, my husband, the Nightwing, a brilliant man and a formidable and acrobatic athlete, say, "Tell me I didn't just step in a pail full of paint…."

^V^

"Garbage," Batman growled as he threw a sixteen-year old head first into a dumpster filled with the previous week's finest meals.

I had been in the process of tying up the older associate of the trash-riddled teen, both of which had been chasing down a pair of young girls walking out of a late night movie.

With my prey subdued, I watched on as Batman retrieved the boy, dragging him towards me. He bound him by the wrists and feet, a little tighter than necessary, before shooting a grappling hook skyward. I followed suit before informing Oracle a squad car was needed at the alley of Amherst and Sullivan.

I expected him to be already moving on to the next rooftop, but instead, Batman was standing, looking down at the unconscious forms below. As I approached him, he said, "I'm headed to the Bowery."

"I'll come."

He shook his head, "I have it under control."

"Do you?"

Since the Icarus fiasco, he had been increasingly more violent in apprehending even the most placid of criminals. I had brought it up after patrols a week earlier and he had brushed it off as getting some steam out of his system. I had confronted Barbara about it and she had also noticed but she had actually chosen in favor of Tim, saying he needed some time to work his frustrations out, albeit in the less than ideal manner.

Surprisingly, the only one who had agreed with me had been Dick.

We were sparring at the satellite Bat-cave one afternoon, and I had flipped him onto his back with a bit more force than I had intended. Dick, panting, had replied, "You've been hanging out with Tim too much."

From that single comment, we had delved into a quiet discussion over his lack of control and excessive force. Dick, while rubbing his sore backside, had said, "He can ignore it all he wants Cass, but eventually he has to face the fact that he wasn't responsible for what happened to Bruce. That Bruce was responsible."

I had muttered quietly and when he asked me to repeat myself, I said, "Like with Pasqualle."

Dick had sighed, "Exactly. Or with Bane, No Man's Land, whenever he's faced off with the Joker… Or any other time that Bruce put his life on the line. He always did it to save others, with no intention of saving himself first."

I had yet to confront Tim about it since speaking with Dick but after seeing him pummel almost a dozen people to a bloody pulp within three days, I figured it was better late than never.

Batman turned quickly enough to cause his cape to wrap around him, "What are you saying?"

I had never been scared of Batman, not with Bruce behind the cowl, nor with Tim. But there was a look about him, one that caused something very close to fear within me. But I was taught better than to run away from my fear; I was taught to confront it head on.

"I'm saying is that you need to get over it."

"Get over what?" he growled.

I ripped my mask off, clearly showing that I was not angry, that I was concerned, "That it wasn't your fault."

He didn't need clarification for that.

"We've been over this," he turned away from me and began to stride across the rooftop.

I caught up with him and grabbed his forearm, "No we haven't. You keep saying you know… but you don't…. You can't keep lying to yourself…"

"I'm not lying to anyone, Batgirl."

I slapped him, hard across the cheek. His eyes lit up, not in anger, but in pure shock. "You need to wake up. Snap out of this. Before someone else gets hurt."

Before he could retaliate, I had already slipped my mask on and ran to the edge of the roof, leaping before firing a grapple. Not a second after I had been airborne, I heard his grapple gun fire, spotting it as it anchored mere feet from mine. I began to angle my body in order to prepare to swing up and land on the adjacent rooftop.

That was until I felt a broad arm wrap around my midsection from behind.

We somersaulted painfully into the tar coated rooftop of a youth center. I managed to free myself from his grasp, adding a kick to the tender flesh just above his utility belt for good measure. He doubled over for a moment before reaching out, grabbing onto my leg before I was able to bring it back.

A half of a second later, I was pinned into the ground, his knee digging into my back. When he leaned in to no doubt growl something in my ear, I head butted his face before elbowing him in the side. He reeled backwards, allowing me my freedom once more. I jumped up instantly, taking a fighter's stance before I realized he was still on the ground, sprawled backwards, his gloved fingers touching the river of blood that flowed from his nose.

As I moved towards him he started reached for the first aid compartment of his utility belt, retrieving a wad of cotton gauze. By the time I was kneeling beside him, he had the cotton pressed to his nose firmly, the faintest drops of blood already seeping through.

We sat in silence, going through both of our reserves of cotton before his nose stopped bleeding. He looked over at me before pulling back the cowl, revealing a very tired, very frustrated Timothy Drake.

"You want to call in the domestic dispute?"

I smiled before pulling back my own mask, "I don't think I'll press charges."

He started to smile, and then a few chuckles escaped his lips before I realized his eyes were watering with tears. Before I could ask if he was all right, he bowed his head, sobbing quietly, "He could have died, Cass."

"I know…"

"No, he… I didn't know what time the bomb was set for, or that there was… if I had made him take a comm. link, or if I had gone back in with him…"

"Tim… No one could have known…"

"I should have!" he snapped before repeating quietly, "I should have known they had another man locked in the basement. I… I should have known he needed help… That he couldn't do…" He finally looked up at me, "I should have never asked him."

I reached out and put a hand on his cheek, keeping his gaze directed at me, "If you hadn't, we wouldn't have found them, we wouldn't have stopped them… Not in time." He was quiet for a moment and I continued, "He knows the risks, better than all of us. He knew, Tim, and still… He went back in. He saved that man," I rose to my feet and offered him a hand.

He nodded before pulling his cowl back into place, "And he would do it again."

"And again."

The right side of his mouth twitched upwards in an all too familiar way, "And again."

^V^

The night before Thanksgiving, I had my first panic attack as the father of a pre-pubescent girl.

Since it was vacation, Mattie had asked to have a few friends over for a sleepover. Generally Mattie tried to go to other children's homes rather than inviting them over so Selina was more than happy to give her permission.

Before her guests arrived, Mattie had taken claim over the den, using a small hand powered air pump to blow up several twin sized air mattresses that I didn't even knew we owned. When I suggested that they could sleep in the guest bedrooms, Mattie had rolled her eyes at me, "That's not what a sleepover is, Dad."

Clearly out of my realm of expertise, I took to spending the remainder of the afternoon in the study, reading up the latest with the Icarus case, as per the Gotham Post. Not the most reliable source but Selina would fillet me if she found me in the Cave that early in the day.

That soon after what had happened.

There had been no initial thought in taking up Tim's offer to help in a more productive manner. I had waited a few days before telling Selina with no particular reasoning. Expecting her to be angry with me, I was surprised when she had quietly reminded me of a promise I once made to her. A promise I made after I had kept her in the dark about my stepping down from being Batman.

That I wouldn't keep any secrets from her, ever again.

That first night out as Matches Malone, I felt more alive than I had in years. And when Matches kicked a stool out from some boozehound at his old bar, the ensuing brawl had my blood pumping and a grin breaking out on my face. It wasn't until later that night, as Alfred stitched a gash in the back of my head while I had cotton wads soaking blood from my nostrils that I realized my mind should have been somewhere else.

It should have been on my family.

The guilt was painful, but at the same time I found it nearly impossible to keep my thoughts directed anywhere but towards that feeling I used to get leaping from one rooftop to the next. When I had gotten into bed with Selina, she had smelled the antiseptic and fresh bandages and rolled away from me rather than towards me. How many nights had I arrived home in a similar or worse state, to find her safe in bed? The life she had never intended but it was the life she led. My stepping down had brought us closer, but resuming that lifestyle, without her…

… _If you don't dress up as Mr. Malone then I will have to go as Mrs. Malone…_

At the time, I thought she had been joking but looking back, had she been jealous? Angry? Selina was more than capable containing her emotions but something had slipped through when I had told her Tim's plan. Later, concussed and casted after the explosion, I had realized it had been concern. One night, not a week after my last stand as Matches, she had been sitting in bed with me while applying fresh bandages to some of the more severe lacerations. Out of the blue, I had asked what her first thought had been after Barbara had told her what had happened.

She tried to change the subject and even went as far as leaving the room to retrieve more medical tape from the bathroom.

When she returned, I asked her again.

Her tears spoke more than words ever would.

"Bruce, are you in here?" I heard Selina rap at the study door. She walked over and sat on the arm of my leather chair and asked, "Can you keep an eye on things; I have to run down quick to pick up dinner."

"Alfred's not cooking?"

She glared at me before promptly taking the newspaper from my hands, rolling it and smacking me upside the head, "He is not cooking the night before Thanksgiving."

"Of course," I muttered as I rose to my feet. Using the cane as little as possible, I started for the doorway and asked where the children were.

"I'm taking Nathan with me and Mattie and her friends are in the den."

I gulped air audibly, "They're here already?"

"Bruce, it's almost six."

I passed through the tall entranceway into the den to see Mattie and three of her peers. I recognized Katarina's tall form and Terry's laughter but the third girl was a mystery. Selina stepped by me, gently placing a hand on my lower back before entering the room, "Mattie, I'll be back in a little while, so if you need anything, Dad's here."

She looked over her shoulder briefly before saying, "Okay, Mom."

Alone and unarmed, I stepped further into the room and watched as Mattie went about plugging in a video game system Tim had given her for her last birthday. Although Mattie had never really been one for that sort of entertainment, she was quickly taken with the motion sensor remotes and interactive games.

"Need any help, kitten?" I asked.

"I've got it… Terry what game did you bring?"

The young boy began searching in his backpack, "A couple, let me get them."

I found the unknown girl staring at my cane and I said, "Hi, I'm Mattie's dad, Bruce."

She had a cute heart shaped face, freckled cheeks and strawberry blonde hair. A younger, shier version of Barbara, almost. Mattie stood and said, "Oh, I forgot, Dad, this is Angie. Angie this is my dad."

"What happened to your leg, Mr. W?" Katarina asked before blowing a bubble wither gum.

"He was in a car accident, but he's okay. Aren't you, Dad?" Mattie explained before looking at me and giving a subtle yet slightly noticeable wink.

"You bet. Just in time to slip on a patch of ice over the winter."

None of them caught on to my joke and resumed the debate over which game to play first. They each seated themselves on the floor, a good six feet from the television, testing out their remote controllers. I offered them popcorn or something to drink but they all agreed to wait until dinner.

As they started a baseball related game, Mattie looked back at me, "Dad, do you mind?"

"What… oh, right… Well, if you need me, I'll be down the hall in the study, Mattie."

"Okay, Dad," she said, not even looking over my shoulder as she had for her mother not ten minutes earlier.

Choosing to eat after our guests, I remained in the study, trying to resume looking over the newspaper but I couldn't help but think on how Mattie had gone from being attached to me nearly every waking hour to wanting to spend those waking hours with her friends. Selina always joked that I would be her roommate in college just so I could keep track of her. At that moment, it was less of a joke as more of a tragic fact.

A little before seven-thirty, I emerged into the hall and passed the den, looking in briefly. I spotted all four of them lying on two of the air mattresses, throwing popcorn at each other's mouths while a movie played on the screen. It took a moment to realize that Terry and Mattie were lying on the same mattress.

Before I could do anything, Selina's lips were in my ear, "If you go in there, you will be spending the rest of your days on an air mattress... Alone."

^V^

Since Alfred had to cook dinner that afternoon for Thanksgiving, Mom and I decided to make waffles for everyone. Katarina and I wanted raspberry waffles and Terry and Angie wanted chocolate chip. Instead of making us decide on one, Mom said it was no problem to make both kinds, as well as some blueberry ones for her, Dad and Nathan.

I had asked if Alfred had a favorite waffle and Mom said he liked cinnamon but he was already off grocery shopping for the morning.

I nodded and said, "I was wondering why he wasn't here watching us in his kitchen…"

Mom laughed and said that she would get started on breakfast if we wanted to pick up the den and fold up the mattresses. Once in the hallway, we raced each other to the den, Katarina being the tallest was there first and did a cartwheel to celebrate. I suddenly wanted to show her the handsprings Cass had taught me but I was still unsure of doing anything like that since the fight at school in June. Especially inside with Dad home…

We each took a mattress and uncorked the air hole before stomping on them to help push all of the air out. We had them about half emptied when I heard Nathan giggling and looked up to see him running into the room. I had him help me finish emptying mine and then folded it and put it back in its bag. He acted like he wanted to help but I was pretty sure he just wanted to play with it some more.

As we picked up the video games and found the bits of popcorn from the night before, Nathan followed me every where I went in the den and Terry laughed. I smiled before starting to walk in circles, changing direction randomly. Nathan laughed and followed my every step. When I stopped, he bumped into me and said "You it!"

I had taught him how to play tag over the summer and he loved it, especially if I chased him. Just as he spun around to run away from me, Dad stepped into the doorway, "Mattie have you seen… There you are."

With my father in sight, Nathan ran full speed, laughing loudly until he collided with Dad' legs. After being scooped up into the air with one arm, Nathan wrapped his arms around Dad head, squeezing tightly.

"Can't breathe, tiger," Dad said as he let his cane drop in order to hold Nathan better.

Terry was quick to trot over and pick it up. After Dad thanked him, Terry shrugged, "No problem."

"Looks like you had fun last night," Dad said as he looked over the den. "You should have a sleepover more often, Mattie."

I nodded, "Oh yeah, can we swim in the pool next time?"

Dad paused before replying, "Sure, as long Mom and I are out there."

"Sweet," Katarina said quietly before going back to work on her mattress.

After breakfast, we sat around the den watching cartoons until everyone's parents picked them up. They all had to head out to their own Thanksgiving dinners and by ten-thirty I was alone. I was trying to figure out in my head who was going to sit where at the table for dinner when Dad walked in, "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," I patted the couch next to me and after he sat down, I climbed into his lap, "Sorry about last night."

"Sorry for what?"

I shrugged, "I don't know for being mean."

He smiled and touched my cheek, "You hardly qualify as being mean, kitten. You had your friends over; it's fine if you want to spend time with them instead of me."

I sighed and looked down at my lap, "But I want to spend time with you because," then I looked back at him, "You're my friend, too."

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head as I leaned against him, "That's very nice of you… But I doubt I'm as cool as your other friends."

I sat up and stared at him, "You're way cooler. You can drive, you don't have to go to school and," I smirked at him, "You have a really awesome daughter."

Dad would smile and snicker at a few things I would say or do, but he laughed out loud at that. "You are correct, Mattie. I suppose I am… way cooler."

I shrugged my shoulders and replied, "Just older, is all."

"This is true," he said while touching his gray hair. As his arm was pulled back, I was eye level with a garish looking six inch scar on the underside of his arm. I had seen it before and even felt it a few times. I always thought it looked like someone had tried to slice his arm in half.

He caught me looking and quickly lowered his arm. I asked if he was okay and he replied, "I'm all right, just tired…" Dad paused for a moment and then said, "Mattie, I want to tell you something, something important."

"Sure." I assumed everything he told me was important but it must have been even more important.

He started quietly, "For a long time, I used to be… The thing is…" he shook his head and sighed, "Never mind, kitten. Why don't you go see if Mom and Alfred want any help."

I stared at him for a moment, suddenly very curious as to what he had been trying to say.

Mom was right, boys could be very confusing.

Before getting off of his lap, I leaned in and kissed his cheek, "You know what, Dad?"

"What?"

"I know what I'm thankful for?"

He smirked, "What's that?"

I thought it was pretty obvious but I said, it anyway, "You."

^V^


	17. What Lies Ahead: XVII

Title: What Lies Ahead: XVII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: A familiar face shows up in Gotham City…

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Small yappy type dog is a tres petit tribute to the almighty Eddie Izzard… Reference made to a conversation between Batman and Nightwing in Detective Comics 725. Brief references made to No Man's Land.

^V^

"Either my comm. link is icing over or you just suggested we double date this Friday."

Nightwing paused before responding, no doubt making a calculated leap from one Bludhaven rooftop to the next. With Gotham behaving itself lately, he had been heading back into his old stomping grounds up to five nights a week over the winter. I had even gone up a handful of times to help him with a gang that had set up a looting ring right before Christmas.

One of the scumbags had the stones to call me Scrooge right before I had launched him into a display case of collectable dollhouse furniture.

He finally spoke, "Well, I was thinking I'd much rather double date with you and Cass rather than Bruce and Selina."

"Why's that?" I asked, eyeing the all night coffee place four stories below. Julio, the gray haired man who had been the sole proprietor for at least ten years, was nearly due for his two in the morning bathroom break. And with the cafe empty and the temperature hovering just under the freezing point, I was half tempted to sneak in for a mocha latte.

"I don't know," he started, "I just figured it would be more fun… With Bruce we would have to go to dinner in tuxedos, but if it was just us… Maybe we could do something fun, something simple."

"You better not suggest bowling."

"Hey, you said it, I didn't. And besides we only have like three days to figure it out."

Giving up on the idea of steaming coffee as a giggling couple entered below, I wrapped my cape around me tighter and decided to head back towards the Mobile. With three-quarters of the City patrolled, I brought up a mental map of Gotham in order to plan my next venture. I didn't respond to his comment until I was in the heated seat, hands firmly on the steering wheel, "Somehow Rock A Bowl and Valentine's Day don't automatically blend in my mind."

"Yeah, not very romantic, huh? Well, how about dinner in, have some drinks, play some cards…"

I was about to shut down his idea once more when I had my own inspiration, "Well, we could have dinner at our place. Order in from somewhere."

"And the drinks and cards?"

I allowed myself a slight smirk before responding, "Only if it's Cherry Coke and the cards are from Hallmark."

"Now that's romantic… Oops, got to go, cab driver fight!"

I smirked as he closed the connection, certain that I would not be so lucky as to have to break up a squall between two taxi drivers over a parking space. But I would certainly be lucky enough to have to chase down a mugger or six in the freezing cold.

Sans my source of entertainment, I drove the mile and a half of snow-covered streets into the City Hall District in order to loop around Robinson Park. Last I had checked in with Batgirl she wasn't too far away, touring the ever-active Miller Harbor. Over the years we had done battle with a wide variety of smugglers, from those running in arms and drugs to those shipping out stolen technology and young girls…

"Busy?" Oracle's voice came over the comm. link in my ear.

"Heading towards City Hall, then the Park. Why?"

"Might want to take the Park first, had a call come by a minute ago. Get this, it was a mugger who called in being attacked by Batgirl."

"Well, she's over by the Harbor…"

"Right, and she's still there, she hasn't been in the Park all night."

"Interesting," I replied, "I'll check it out."

Despite the fact there were certainly enough masked guardians covering the streets of Gotham, there had been several others who had stepped up on their own accord to take on the night. Barbara, who had once been on her own, had quickly joined forces with Bruce and Dick. Stephanie had done her best but in the end… And Huntress had never been truly part of our Family and had eventually disappeared shortly before Pasqualle had shot Bruce.

There were a few other rookies that had lacked the passion and they ability to carry out the work and had been deemed unworthy by Bruce. He had always been quick to scare them off and from the sounds of it I would get my chance to do the same.

After parking the 'Mobile in a nearly pitch black service alley between a college run café and a kosher deli, I climbed the fire escape to the icy rooftop in order to get a better look over the grand acreage that made up Robinson Park. With most of the deciduous trees barren, I could see a majority of the eastern path system that I had jogged countless times during college. Since moving to Bryanttown, Cass and I raced each other around the park that was just down the street from our townhouse.

As I took out my digital binoculars, I contacted Oracle, "What was the twenty on that attack?"

"Uh, northeast corner, near the playground with the lady bug jungle gym." When I didn't reply she grumbled, "What, you don't know each playground by heart?"

"Not by their obstacles. By their names. It's the Ellen Chamberlain Memorial Playground."

"Also known as the one with the giant ladybug."

I growled lowly before closing the connection. Despite the cold wind, I took to traveling by rooftop to make it around to the northeast corner. On the way, I spotted a ski-masked individual trying to carjack a Lexus and took three minutes out of my night to remind him that stealing was wrong.

Back on track, I made my way into the park via shooting a grapple line high into an ancient oak that stood just inside the wrought iron fencing. I landed on a snow bank and somersaulted to my feet. Taking cover in the tree line, I navigated to the playground, smirking to see the bright red figure of a ladybug jungle gym. Gotham had not seen a fresh inch of snow since the heavy snowstorm over the weekend. I found a scramble of footprints and few droplets of blood on the other side of the tire swing and moved in for a closer look.

Four sets of prints. A pair of size seven female Nike running shoes and a tiny pair of paw prints that reminded me of Frank's. A pair of size eleven work boots, with the left sole worn more to the inside suggesting an arch problem. And then another size seven pair, altered boots with a distinguished heel.

Work Boots came from the seclusion of a pine tree, no doubt hunkered down waiting for a late night passerby. Sneakers came through with her small yappy type dog and was approached from behind by Work Boots. Then, from the south, High Heels came out of seemingly nowhere, perhaps from a tree, and promptly skirmished with Work Boots until he fell to the ground. I took a few digital shots of the boot prints, scavenged a sample from the bloody snow and then proceeded back to the cover of the trees.

As Nightwing's voice returned, I noticed something glinting on one of the pine trees, "You will never believe what those cab drivers were fighting over."

"Do tell."

"Which one was more Romanian. Can you believe it?"

I stood mere inches from the tree, gently pulling at the shiny steel rod embedded in the bark. When it popped out, I stared down at the shimmering crossbow arrow and sighed, "Anything's possible."

^V^

With young Master Nathan suffering a rather nasty cold, Wayne Manor had rarely seen a quiet night for nearly a week. The poor lad would sleep for nearly three hours before waking up, coughing and crying for his parents. A trip to Leslie's the day before had given him a prescribed decongestant and antibiotic that wouldn't take effect for at least another day.

Seeing Master Bruce carry his young son up and down the corridors of the great house brought back memories of when Miss Mattie had been ill as a toddler. But where Master Nathan would be healthy and back to his cheerful self in a few days, Miss Mattie would carry her illness with her for her entire life.

With his father taking the night shift to care for Master Nathan, Ms. Selina had decided to take a week off from her duties at the wildcat preservation to watch him throughout the day. I had offered to care for Master Nathan over night but Master Bruce had been adamant that he would stay up with the child. As a result, he had a less than desirable disposition at work, of which was only marginally elevated when he made his way home in the evening.

I found myself rising a little before five in the morning, mere minutes before the alarm would have gone off had I not stopped setting it years earlier. After dressing in a pair of dark slacks, white shirt, black tie and gray button up sweater, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. Grinding and setting the coffee to percolate, I toured the ground floor; briefly checking over each room while taking note of what needed tending to throughout the day.

When I returned to the kitchen not thirty minutes later, I was greeted with the warm aroma of fresh coffee in addition to Master Bruce and a sniffling Nathan. I smiled to see he was using one arm supporting his child and the other reaching into the refrigerator, no doubt in search of a beverage for his son. Master Nathan pressed his face into the soft material if his father's housecoat before tightening his tiny arms around Master Bruce's neck.

Before I could announce my presence, Master Bruce paused in his search and looked towards me, "Alfred, did Nathan have any electrolytes left?"

"Behind the carafe of orange juice, I believe."

Master Bruce looked again and nodded, "Ah."

After retrieving the pre-made bottle of cherry flavored electrolytes, he shook it up and offered it to his son, "Here, tiger, drink up."

Master Nathan released his father but not to take hold of the bottle, to wipe his eyes before reaching towards the stool at the island counter. After taking a seat on the high backed stool, he gladly took the bottle and went to work on emptying it. Master Bruce stood beside him and stifled a yawn.

"Coffee, sir?"

He looked up at me briefly before replying, "Yes, please."

"How did we fair last night?" I asked as I went about pouring the first cup of the day, usually a cup that belonged to Ms. Selina.

Master Bruce sipped the steaming liquid carefully before setting the mug far out of Master Nathan's reach, "Not too bad, he only woke up twice… and then he was up for good about a half of an hour ago. But now it's more sniffling than coughing."

As if to prove his father's words to be true, Master Nathan set his bottle down in order to sniff his tiny plugged nose. Before I could retrieve my handkerchief, Master Bruce was quick to find his and offer aide to his son's plight. As the boy took hold of his juice once more, Master Bruce took hold of his own beverage.

Whether it was old age or the sheer resemblance of the moment that carried out before me, I couldn't help but recall many mornings when Master Thomas shared early breakfasts with his toddling son before leaving for a long day at the hospital.

… _What are you feeding him, Alfred, he seems to grow every day…_

… _I'm afraid I can't take all the credit, Master Thomas, after all he comes from very good stock…_

I shook my head slightly to send the recollection back to the depths of my memory before asking if Master Bruce desired something to eat.

"No, I'll wait for Selina and Mattie…" he drained the coffee mug I had filled only minutes ago, "I'll take him in the den and see if he'll settle down for a bit." I watched on as he picked up Master Nathan and headed towards the door.

With the hour approaching six, I decided to get an early head start on breakfast knowing that Ms. Selina and Miss Mattie would not be long. I decided that I would be able to prepare a fairly hearty breakfast and first went about preparing the batter and fruit for cranberry-orange scones. Once they were rolled out, shaped and filled with sliced bits of fruit, I set them in the oven to bake for the next twenty minutes as I moved on to preparing ham and spinach hash. After I thinly sliced potatoes into discs, I diced Virginia ham that had also been leftover from the night before. Separately, I chopped spinach, tomatoes and a red onion and combined it in a bowl with a large handful of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.

As I went about preparing a skillet, I heard tiny footfalls passing through the kitchen doorway. Without looking, I greeted, "Good morning, Miss Mattie."

"Morning Alfred. What are you making?" After I looked back to her and listed what was for breakfast, she grinned and climbed on the stool her brother had been sitting on not twenty minutes earlier. "That's sounds really good… lucky I'm hungry."

I nodded and offered, "Would you like to check the scones?"

Miss Mattie hopped off of the stool and quickly made her way to the oven door, peeking inside, "Nope, not quite brown enough." After returning to the stool, she watched as I went about pouring the uncooked hash into the warmed skillet.

Letting it sit momentarily, I turned and asked, "Would you like something to drink, Miss Mattie?"

"No, that's okay… Hey, Alfred?"

"Yes, dear?"

"What would you give a friend for Valentine's Day?"

"A friend? As in Miss Katarina?"

"No, I already got her something… And I bought something for Angie and Piper and I have cards for everyone in the class… But I wanted to get something for Terry. But not like a boyfriend thing, just a friend thing."

I smiled softly thinking of the young blue eyed, dark haired boy that had become one of Miss Mattie's best friends. Since well into the third grade, there was some sleepover or event that had Miss Mattie attended alongside her small cluster of close acquaintances. Although no one else saw any trouble with one of said acquaintances being a boy, but Master Bruce was on the verge of developing stomach ulcers.

"Well, if I am not mistaken, Master Terrance is fond of video games, is he not?"

"Yeah but he has a million of them, and I was thinking I could get him something, I don't know, special. But not like… you know."

Turning the hash, I nodded before replying, "Of course. Well, perhaps then something more personal."

"Like when I pick out the green gum drops for Dad at Christmas"

"Precisely."

"Well, he likes lemon Starbursts…"

Without another word she was off the stool once more and trotting out into the hallway. Before I could set the spatula down in order to check the scones, she appeared once more and smiled, "Thanks Alfred!" before returning to the hallway.

"Anytime, Miss Mattie."

After checking the scones and setting the hash to cool in a porcelain bowl, another pair of footsteps followed by Ms. Selina's voice, "Alfred, I smelled that Estima Blend from upstairs."

As I went about pouring her a cup and adding a dash of sugar and cream, I replied, "Good morning, Ms. Selina."

She took a long, careful sip and replied, "Now it is. Have you seen the rest of the pack?"

I told her that Miss Mattie had just visited briefly before heading back upstairs and that Master Bruce was with Nathan in the den. When she asked how her son had seemed, I answered, "The best I have seen him in several days, I feel."

"Yeah, hopefully we can get him back to pre-school before Friday. I guess their having a little party for Valentine's… hate for him to miss out." Similarly to her daughter and son, Ms. Selina also took to sitting on the stool at the island counter, watching my every move. While I was placing the scones on a cooling tray, she spoke once more, "What are your plans for Friday, Alfred?"

"Oh, nothing is set in stone, I'm afraid. Dinner at Leslie's, pending a disaster or the natural or unnatural kind."

"Of course… has Bruce mentioned anything to you?"

I paused before formulating my white lie, "No, not that I can recall."

"Well, I was talking to Barbara last night and she had been talking to Cass and they were thinking about having dinner at the townhouse. I know Bruce usually plans something big and extravagant but I think that maybe something simple would be nice… but I didn't want to intrude if he had already come up with something."

"I would recommend speaking with him directly, madam."

She nodded before draining the remaining contents of the mug, "I suppose I should."

When she set the cup in the sink, she set her hand on my forearm, "And you and Leslie would be more than welcome to join us."

I hesitated before replying, "As entertaining as that may be, I will gladly volunteer my babysitting services… and wait for the details Saturday morning."

^V^

"Dick, it's no big deal."

He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, tying his navy blue silk tie into a double Oxford for the fourth time. Unsuccessfully.

"Dick?"

"Yeah, I heard you."

"Dick."

He paused before looking at me, a fraction of his anxiety showing in his uneasy posture, "What?"

"Come here and sit down." He sighed, looked at his reflection again and then walked over before sitting on the edge of the bed. When I moved in front of him, I said, "First of all, no tie. Second, no freaking out."

"No freaking out? Barbara, my cool Valentine's night with just us and Tim and Cass has now grown to include Bruce and Selina and your father."

"Well, look on the bright side, Alfred and Leslie are at Wayne Manor watching the kids."

He rolled his eyes, "But Babs it's going…"

"What, it's going to what?"

He shrugged before slouching, turning the grown man before me into a twelve-year-old boy, "It's just going to be weird."

"Oh grow up. And Tim called while you were in the middle of your hour-long shower. We need to stop at the store."

Once on our way and after deciding to redeem some of his honor, Dick offered to run in quick to get the items on the short list Tim had called with: curry dip, six limes and a dozen figs. Despite the detailed names of the list, I sat in the car listening to the weather report and praying to Cupid that Dick didn't mess up. When he returned yielding a brown paper bag and a dusting of fresh snow on his leather jacket, I was pleased to see he had chosen wisely.

"Getting bad out there," he commented as he hit the windshield wipers before pulling out onto the street.

"Supposed to get six to ten inches tonight."

"Awesome. Can't wait to make me a snow angel on patrols."

Somehow in the fifteen minutes it took us to get to the townhouse, Dick had returned to adulthood. With Tim's Honda in the garage, Dick pulled up next to the Jaguar Selina had given Bruce for his birthday the year before. From the abundant collection of snow, they had definitely arrived far earlier than expected.

Dick took a breath and looked over at me, "Can we please just go out for dinner and a movie?"

"Richard."

"Fine, but if Bruce starts discussing the lack of validity on message heart candies, we're out of here."

I rolled my eyes and told him to be a gentleman and open my door.

Navigating into the garage and through the side entrance of the house, we were met with a collection of aromas form the kitchen. Although Dick had originally planned on ordering in dinner, Tim had taken it on himself to cook for everyone. I had gone to the grocery store with him earlier in the day after we had brainstormed the meal but even between the two of us we had still managed to forget the curry dip for the raw vegetable platter, the lime juice for the Boston Lettuce and Avocado salad and the figs for the Chicken and Pancetta skewers.

As the article had stated, it was "a delicious and easy to make Valentine's party meal that will fulfill a variety of palates with high energy and high taste foods certain to not only spark appetites with underlying aphrodisiac foodstuffs."

Straight from the pages of that month's Cosmo.

I stayed in the kitchen to help Tim wrap things up and told Dick to head into the den to take drink orders. He mumbled something about not being a waiter but proceeded into the corridor listlessly.

As I sliced the figs in halves, I glanced over at Tim as he added the fresh limejuice to the vinaigrette for the salad. Usually, whenever I saw him he was either in jeans and an American Eagle shirt or he was decked out in the Batsuit. But for that night he had spiffed up his wardrobe with flawless dark khakis and an ironed slate blue dress shirt over a steel gray tee, all of it protected by a green apron that bore an array of spots and splotches.

"What?" he asked and I suddenly realized I had stopped cutting.

"Nothing. You look nice when you're not wearing Kevlar.

He laughed and began pouring the dressing over the lettuce avocado pieces, "Thanks. You're not too shabby yourself when you're not sporting a headset and sweats."

"Oh thanks," I snickered. I also had improved my appearance for the night, from getting my hair cut the day before down to buying a new fitted low-cut blouse. When I had emerged from the bedroom earlier that evening, dressed and ready to go, Dick had stared a bit longer than necessary then had leapt from the couch joking about suddenly needing a cold shower.

"So how long have Selina and Bruce been here?"

He sighed, "Almost an hour. Your Dad called and said he would be late. Because of the snow he decided to call a cab, as did half of Gotham City…. But Cass and Selina have been talking about the kids nonstop, completely ignoring Bruce. He even went as far as coming in here to see if he could help."

"What did you say?"

Tim poured the salad into a glass bowl and then set the mixing bowl and spatula in the nearly overflowing sink, "I had him chop vegetables for a while but then his cell phone rang and he didn't come back for round two."

I laughed, "He probably had Alfred call to give him a way out." He laughed as well before going about setting a wild rice pilaf flavored with ginger in another glass bowl. As I brought him the sliced figs, I continued, "Surprised you didn't use your time together more wisely."

"How so?"

I shrugged, "To tell him about you know who being back in town."

After hesitating, Tim went back to carefully pouring the rice, "I haven't been able to confirm it yet. And I certainly don't want to tell Bruce that she's back if I'm not a thousand percent sure… Besides, it's been more than five years since she's even been sited anywhere, even longer since she's been seen in Gotham, who knows, maybe she's passed the crossbow onto some other revenge driven girl in high heels."

"Possible."

He looked at me, his face suddenly reminding me of a much young and much warier Tim Drake, "But not probable…. Did you tell Dick?"

Helena Bertinelli was a sore subject for me, one that I was fairly successful in avoiding for the better part of a decade. The look that I couldn't help but allow to wash over my face answered for me.

Before we mentioned her name once more, Dick appeared, "All right, I have one hot cider, one coffee and one glass of Grand Cru merlot and I'll give you ten bucks for every one you match up correctly.

Tim grinned before replying, "Cass has the cider, Bruce has the coffee and Selina has the merlot."

"But…" Dick growled and reached for his wallet, "I only have a twenty, I'll owe you ten."

"No, you'll do the dishes," Tim smirked as he removed his apron.

"Wise guy… how did you know? And don't give me a line about world's greatest detective…" Dick replied as he went about retrieving the drinks.

Still smiling, Tim shrugged his shoulders, "Simple enough. It's what they asked for when I offered them drinks forty minutes ago."

^V^

"They took the cheesecake home?" I cried out while calculating a throw of a bolo in the general direction of two nitwits trying to outrun me.

Barbara sighed before explaining, "Dick, it's for the kids, and for Alfred and Leslie. I had Tim save you a piece so try not to develop ulcers from fretting."

"But, it was white chocolate macadamia nut cheesecake…" my voice was filled with sorrow despite the fact that the bolo landed perfectly around its target, tying the two hoodlums together, sending them crashing to the snow covered pavement.

"And you had two pieces after dinner. If anything you should be having nightmares of food not craving more."

I ignored her for the eight minutes it took to check my captives, call it into dispatch and then make a speedy exit. On my way back towards Cathedral Square, I finally replied, "Sorry, but the last thing I want to be doing right now is patrols during a snow storm."

"And what would you rather be doing?" she asked, a light suggestive tone coming over her voice.

I leered in response, "Something that would require hot water, a rubber duckie and no clothing."

"Bubble bath… good idea. If you behave yourself, I'll have one ready upon your return."

I allowed myself a smile before pulling out my binoculars, "You really know how to win a guy's heart, Babs."

"Oh, like you've ever played hard to get."

"I did," I corrected her as I scanned the quiet street below, "When I was twelve."

I had yet to decide whether it was the holiday or the poor weather that had blessed Gotham a quiet evening. After patrolling for nearly three hours, I had run into less than a dozen evildoers and their evil deeds weren't even that evil, immoral at best. Then again, it was more the cold that was getting to me; it was the how cordial Bruce had been at dinner.

As we had all sat down to dinner, I found myself sitting across from him. Having known him for nearly my entire life, I had a complete understanding of his body language. A useful gift seeing how he rarely meant what he said, especially in a social setting. But as we dined and chatted about the kids, the city, and what was new in each other's lives, I couldn't detect a single word he uttered to be misleading. His relaxed posture, slight smirk and interest seemed completely genuine.

And completely creepy.

Having stepped down from being Batman, I had expected him to never truly settle into a more domestic lifestyle. Same for Selina. They had both committed themselves to the masked nightlife that Tim, Cassandra and I now led, sacrificing so much for their secretive existences. But in the end…

They had committed themselves to each other, sacrificing their secretive existences for normalcy.

I shook my head, trying to blame the mushiness of Valentine's Day for my train of thought. They were happy, they were finally together, and that was what mattered. Someday, I would lead a similar life, gray hair, nine-to-five, pork chops on Thursdays.

Well, maybe not the gray hair.

As I shot a grapple at one of the larger gargoyles atop the St. Nicholas cathedral, a flash of movement on the steeped rooftop caught my eye. Moving silently, I found fresh tracks of a small high-heeled boot. After convincing myself that a heinous force would not be hanging out on the roof of a Roman Catholic cathedral, I pursued the tracks without contacting Oracle.

"Mass doesn't begin until ten in the morning," I muttered as I carefully navigated the edge of the roof while rounding a corner.

"It's the early bird that catches the worm, Nightwing."

I stopped dead in my tracks even before my eyes feel upon the figure standing mere feet away, her cape wrapped around her form. It had been years since I had seen her last and from what my shell-shocked eyes could see, she hadn't changed… physically. Her dark wavy hair was still well beyond her shoulders and her golden cross still rested on her chest.

"Huntress," I finally stammered.

"Long time no see."

"How long have you been in Gotham?" I questioned as I approached her, still using the same caution I would have used if it had been the Joker.

"Few days."

As my pulse slowed to a normal range, I asked, "Where… where have you been?"

"Extended vacation touring Europe. Needed time to figure life out, I suppose."

"Couldn't you have just bought a self-help book?"

Huntress smiled as she looked me over, "Always the comedian… How've you been?"

"Good, great."

"No more Bludhaven?"

I smirked, "Part-time. I couldn't really convince Barbara to move…" I paused before clarifying, "We're married."

Her brow rose out of surprise but she quickly tried to recover her composure, "Wow, congratulations. I was actually planning on dropping by the Clocktower tonight but I figured tomorrow would be better. Being Valentine's Day and all."

Maybe she had physically stayed the same but something had changed. She seemed to be missing something and it took a moment to recognize that her voice lacked the fierceness it once had. As if the fire that had raged within her had cooled. I found myself a mere foot from her, "Yeah, you wouldn't want to walk in on her devouring the chocolates I bought her that she vowed not to eat in one night. She might have to kill you."

Huntress smiled briefly before looking over the city skyline, "Gotham seems to be quiet. Feels so odd being back and not having some giant battle or evil mastermind out on the loose, wrecking havoc…"

"I'm still not used to it myself. We've had some ordeals but not nearly as bad as before," I paused and wiped snow out of my hair, "Nice to see our hard work paying off."

"I bet…" she went quiet for a moment and it wasn't hard to see the unease in her form. Before I could ask anything, she continued, "I've been tracking him, at night. Wanted to confront him but I just couldn't bring myself to…"

She turned away from me, her hand reaching up to her face.

She was crying.

"Huntress," I started.

She shook her head. "I put two and two together. Robin's no longer around, you're back in Gotham and Batman's two inches shorter than he used to be… I didn't want to believe it… He's dead isn't he?"

Having never been truly part of the Family, Helena didn't know the faces behind the masks. Had she remained in the Justice League and had she given up her extreme violent ways, perhaps she would have been let in.

But she hadn't.

My hesitation to answer caused her to turn back to me, "Yes..."

I found myself nodding, telling her the same lie I had told James Gordon that dreadful night I had answered the Bat-Signal in Bruce's cape and cowl. The tears she had been fighting finally slipped over her masked cheeks and not a second later she was pressing her face into my chest. Out of the general kindness of my heart, I wrapped my arms around her gently, trying to console her.

Tears subsiding, she pulled away but I found my hand still resting on her arm, "I asked him once… if he would ever give up. He had answered that he would be too old for it someday… if he was lucky."

She forced a sad smile and said, "Sounds like something he would say."

I nodded, "Exactly. He knew every night could have been his last. And the night he… He saved Gordon; he saved the life of his best friend. I doubt he would have wanted it any other way."

We stood in silence for a few minutes, staring at the lights of Gotham. No doubt she was replaying every moment she shared with Batman, all the violence, all of the anger, every word she regretted saying…

Of which made me feel even worse since all I could think of was Bruce holding Selina's hand at dinner, laughing as Jim went on about Frank's latest antics and of course harassing me for eating too much cheesecake before patrols.

After sighing, I finally let go of her arm before saying, "Gotham's a big city but… I'll see you around, right?"

Huntress nodded slowly, "Of course."

Instead of making a dramatic departure, she walked away and disappeared around the next turn of the roof.

Before I could make my own exit, I heard Barbara over the comm. link, "For your information, I did not eat all of the chocolates. Only the ones with the caramel mousse."

"I figured you'd be listening in…" I sighed as I prepared a grapple, "Was I convincing?"

"You made her cry, you big meanie."

After setting my aim and firing, I leapt off of the roof, "I did. On Valentine's Day. On a cathedral rooftop. With my wife listening. I'm going to Hell aren't I?"

"You can redeem yourself… if you're home by two."

^V^

"Open wide…"

Blindfolded by the necktie Selina had tied around my eyes, I was lying on my back on top of the covers with uncertain torture coming my way.

Having spent the majority of the evening at the townhouse for dinner, Selina and I returned home shortly before ten, allowing the other dinner guests to also head out for the night. Shaking hands with Tim and Dick briefly before leaving was only made more difficult knowing within minutes they would be on rooftops…

Usually, I had much more elaborate plans for the occasion but when Selina suggested a quiet dinner among friends, I wasn't about to protest. The family came together for several holidays over the calendar year but adding one more couldn't hurt.

After checking in with Alfred, we found that Leslie had left early in order to get back to the clinic. We also found Mattie and Nathan fast asleep so we decided to put their cheesecake in the refrigerator for the following night. While in the kitchen, I watched on as Selina uncorked a bottle of wine and found two glasses. Before I could comment, she smiled at me, "Oh, you didn't think the night was over, did you?"

I had expected a quick disrobing upon our return to the bedroom but instead Selina kicked off her heels and poured wine for two. I removed my shoes as well and took a glass from her, clinking her glass with mine as I sat on the bed.

I stared at her for a moment before toasting, "To us."

"Lame…" she commented before taking a sip.

I looked at her over the rim of my glass, "You've got a better one?"

Quietly, she set her glass down on the bedside table next to the wine bottle and moved closer to me, her fingers carefully removing my tie.

And there I was, ten minutes later, blind and horizontal on the bed, playing the guessing game with an assortment of Belgian chocolates.

"What's the point of this again?"

"To test your senses when there is another one removed... Open." Reluctantly, I did as I was told and another chocolate was placed on my tongue. As I chewed, she asked, "Well?"

"Dark chocolate… hazelnut… coffee flavored cream filling."

"This is too easy… Ah, I have an idea."

I heard the rattle of another foil wrapper being removed but instead of her asking me to open my mouth again, she remained silent. Just as I was about to ask if she was out of candy, I felt her weight shift again before her lips pressed against mine.

When she pulled away, I drew a slow breath before replying, "Dark ganache chocolate infused with a rum cream."

"Damnit," she muttered.

I smiled and asked, "Can I take this off now?"

"No, one more… Ah, perfect."

She took extra care in crumpling numerous wrappers while she was chewing and I listened as she even rinsed her mouth with wine. Before kissing me, she moved once more on the bed, lifting her right leg over me to straddle my midsection. When her lips met mine, I tried not to smile and to focus on the array of flavors coming to mind.

Selina began to pull away but I murmured, "Not yet, I don't have all of the evidence."

I kissed her again despite the fact that she was laughing. Selina sat up once more and asked, "All right, that was more than enough time."

"Okay. You tried to deter me by introducing the Merlot, but based on my findings… you took a bite of a Marzipan with orange zest mixed with dark chocolate, then you took a bite of a butter pineapple cream in the white chocolate and then you had to have at least licked something that had mint in it."

"This isn't fun anymore…" she sighed as she started to move off of me.

I stilled her by placing my hands on her hips, "I told you I would know each one."

Leaning forward, Selina's face came within an inch of mine, "You think you know everything?"

"Almost," I replied.

She paused before asking, "What underwear am I wearing?"

"What, no taste-test?" I asked. She gasped in genuine shock of which turned to a growl when she noticed I was smiling. Seeing as how the first test was to see if my taste was up to par, I decided to try out my sense of touch by barely stroking my fingertips across her rear, barely feeling any fabric under her skirt.

"Lace trim, Brazilian cut… lavender."

"Now that's just creepy…" Selina commented, "All right, taste, touch, how about hearing?"

She sat up straight, still letting most of her weight rest on my lower abdomen instead of her knees. There was a slight metallic snap followed by a soft whish. Before she could ask her question, I answered, "You let your hair down and threw the clip over the end of the bed."

"Fine… how about smell."

"I don't know about that…" I spoke up.

"Oh?" she asked as she rolled off of me. I listened as she walked around the bedroom, seemingly in a large figure eight before returning to the bed.

"You're losing this game, you'd do something dire to win."

"Dire? Like this?"

It wasn't red wine. It wasn't imported Belgian chocolates. It wasn't her sweet-smelling hair or lavender panties.

It was a fabric-softener scented throw pillow being smashed into my face.

Before Selina could retreat, I latched on to the pillow, ripping it from her grasp. Still blindfolded, I listened carefully to her laughter before taking aim. After it connected with a soft thud, I rolled off of the bed and quickly subdued her before she could seek refuge in the bathroom.

Blindfold half off of my face I was laying on top of Selina with very certain torture coming my way. I looked down at her and smiled, "I win. So that means, if I remember our previously agreed upon arrangements correctly…"

Her laughter subsided to slight giggles as my lips found her collar bone, "You hit me with a pillow and you expect to---."

"You hit me first," I interrupted.

"You don't hit girls," she shot back.

Trying to keep a straight face, I pulled the tie off of my face and looked over her body from head to toe, "You are not a girl. And you hit me first."

"Fine," Selina smiled up at me, "One thing. How did you know they were lavender?"

I shrugged as I got to my feet, offering her a hand to help her up as well, "I watched you get dressed for dinner."

A look of surprise came over her face once more before she responded, "Pervert."

As my hand came to rest on her side, I leaned in and whispered into her ear, "You have no idea…"

^V^

For the last hour and forty minutes of patrols, I knew someone was following me. Roughly fifty yards behind for most the time, but as close as fifteen yards at one point. Capable of keeping up with my break neck rooftop hopping as well as being able to remain out of sight when I paused to glance back.

Not a skill many could claim to have.

I had spent the majority of the night alone, meeting up once briefly with Nigthwing when we crossed paths in the Bowery. Batman had contacted me a handful of times to check in on my progress but there hadn't been much to report. Ready to call it a night, I decided to finally confront my tail. After double backing around the roof of Citibank, I found a nice perch behind an air control unit and waited.

She came through not five minutes later, and it took me less than a second to recognize the long black cape, accented mask and fluid way of going. When I first came to Gotham City after the earthquake, I had spent most days and nights on the streets, long before receiving the guise of Batgirl, working as a scout for Oracle. With my lack of basic communication skills, she had done her best to show me pictures of those to befriend and those to stay away from in order to protect myself.

The black and purple-cloaked figure of the Huntress was one she had been adamant that was a dangerous person to steer clear of. But my first encounter with her had been while I was fighting off delirious residents of No Man's Land who had intended me for dinner. Despite the fact that I could have handled it alone, she had been quick to swoop in and aide in my escape. Once we had disabled my assailants, she had shown nothing but genuine concern for my well being, going as far as to even offer me a place to spend the night.

…_She's a criminal, stay away from her…_

The Huntress paused momentarily on the rooftop; no doubt worried she had lost my trail. Rather than take off unnoticed, I decided to approach her, my feet barely making a sound in the snow. As she turned to look back over her shoulder, her eyes caught on my figure and her eyes widened momentarily.

Not sure what to say, I settled for, "Hi."

"Hey," she said, trying play off her anxiety with a smile.

I nodded slightly, choosing to keep my distance, "Why are you back?"

Huntress paused before answering, "I guess it felt like it was time I gave this superhero thing another shot."

Uncertain as to why, I found myself questioning her motives rather than accepting her surprise return, "Why Gotham?"

"Where else would I go?" she responded, the uneasiness coming rather distinctly through her voice as well as her posture. "Listen, I know I've never been big in… the Family but… I'd like another chance… Right some wrongs, kick some bad guy tail."

I allowed myself to relax slightly and took a few steps closer, "It's not up to me."

She nodded, "I know. It's always been up to him. But…" she looked away from me briefly before continuing, "Things have changed. I've changed, he's…"

It was odd to see someone I had known as exuding confidence and strength to look so… uncertain and week. I couldn't help but think of Bruce when he had been battling his amnesia after being shot by Pasqualle.

Without showing any sign of responding, she offered a small smile before telling me to take care of myself. I watched as she fired an arrow from her cross bow, sending a jump line across the street into the stone ledge of the adjacent building.

"She has changed," I heard a low voice from behind me.

Without turning to face Batman I replied, "Scary thought."

"That it is," he spoke while moving closer, "Nightwing contacted me, said he spoke with her earlier tonight… Said she already knew someone else had stepped into the mantle."

"She's not as stupid as everyone thinks," I said, finally moving in order to face him.

He hesitated, "I never said she was stupid… Neither did he. It was just that she was too violent… too emotional. That's why he never accepted her."

"What about you? Do you accept her?"

Another long pause, but unlike Huntress, his eyes never left mine, "She'll have to prove herself, just as we all had to. But if she crosses the line, even once…"

As Robin, Tim had been on the verge of friendship with Helena, having fought side-by-side wither when Gotham fell victim to a citywide viral plague. Even after, they had never suffered the struggled relationship that she seemed to share with Batman. Then again, she had never shot Tim in the chest with her crossbow, even accidentally…

With my face completely masked, Batman was unable to see the smirk on my lips, but he knew I was thinking something. When he asked what it was, I answered, "Think it's worth your life?"

"What do you mean?"

"Letting her back in… He'll kill you."

The left corner of his mouth rose, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, "Batman doesn't kill."

I shook my head, my smile growing, "He's not Batman anymore."

He smirked briefly before suggesting we finish patrols together, nearly losing his deadpan expression while saying it very well could be his last night alive. Arriving at the satellite Cave a little after three-thirty in the morning, we changed out of our snow-sodden suits and into spare civilian clothes. While he touched up on activity logs and checked in one last time with Oracle, I scanned the small kitchenette for instant hot chocolate.

After using the last two packets to make a concentrated mug, I walked over to the computer just in time to see Tim sign off. "Where's mine?"

"None left, sorry," I said before licking the entire rim of my mug.

He snickered and donned the wool coat that had been resting over the back of his chair. Cocoa in tow, we passed through the secret entrances that to any passerby would have looked like an ordinary brick wall. Despite the fact that we had been in the snow all evening, we chose to walk the few blocks to the townhouse, each taking turns of sipping the hot liquid.

Once home, I followed him into the kitchen not too surprised to see was searching through the leftovers in the fridge. I asked him if there was any salad left and he shook his head, "No, Barbara took it with her. There's rice, chicken… and cheesecake. What do want?"

"Duh, all three."

He laughed, "Of course…" While he went about heating up the ginger pilaf and chicken skewers, I made peppermint hot chocolate for both of us in two large mugs. Our late night meal prepared, we relocated to the den, using the glass coffee table as an impromptu dinner table.

We ate quietly for a few minutes before Tim's endless thinking got the best of him, "Do you really think he'll be mad?"

I finished chewing a fig before replying, "Does it matter?"

Tim shrugged, setting his fork down, "Well, my last judgment call didn't work out so well…"

We shared a quiet moment, collectively thinking on unburying Bruce's body from burning rubble last fall, calling out his name in hopes that he was alive. Before I could start to remind him, once again, that it hadn't been his fault, he continued, "How many times did Bruce try to trust her, only to have her go behind his back, breaking the rules left and right, gunning anyone down that stood in her path? Yeah, I know, she's taken some time off, maybe she has changed, maybe she is ready to help us but… What if she isn't?"

"You said she has to prove herself."

"And she does… But at the same time, I don't want her proving herself to Bruce… Cass, he entrusted me with his city and his legacy. But… who am I to decide to allow someone in that he rejected?"

Although I knew what I was going to say, it took a solid minute before I could say them aloud, "You're Batman."

^V^


	18. What Lies Ahead: XVIII

Title: What Lies Ahead: XVIII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: Gotham welcomes summer with open arms… and a smile.

Author's Note: Direct references made to the ever-entertaining Fight Club.

^V^

While I was drawing Rusty's face on the edge of my Writing binder, I heard a soft noise to my left. Glancing up I saw that Piper was handing me a note. Seeing as how we were in the fourth row back, I casually stretched my arm towards hers and snatched it.

With lunch and recess more than an hour away, I found myself too distracted to work on that night's homework since I had already finished my in class assignment. We had each received a single sheet containing several paragraphs and we had to find and correct all of the grammatical errors. In the thirty minutes we had been allotted, I had only required eleven.

I glanced up to see that our teacher was intently focused on grading our previous night's homework. Mr. Shear was one of my favorite teachers because even though he was pretty stern about completing tasks and working hard, he was quick to turn boring lectures into fun exercises. Our geography quizzes were always done in the form of a Jeopardy! match and he only accepted answers in the form of a question.

As quietly as possible, I unfolded the scrap of paper to see Piper's bubbly handwriting: _Sleepover at my house next next Saturday, can u come?_

I drew a smiley face and wrote out my reply: _Of course!! Who else is coming?_

We passed the paper between ourselves once more and when it returned to me, she had written: _Kat, Lexi, maybe Hannah. U can invite ur BF if u want LOL_.

As I read her playful words, I shot a glare at her and she simply grinned before blowing a kiss. I had never worried about having a boy as one of my best friends but I found it was getting more difficult to ignore the taunting each year. Mom said that when people picked on me about Terry it was because they were jealous that they didn't have him as a best friend.

Mr. Shear's voice interrupted my thoughts, "All right, we'll be heading down to the computer lab for the rest of class. Let's pick partners before we head out."

As I stacked my binder and notebook on top of one another, I heard, "Well?"

Terry had trekked the three rows from his desk to mine in mere seconds. As I got to my feet, I replied, "Sure, but I get the keyboard."

With a smirk that freakishly resembled Dick's, Terry said, "That's what you think..."

The entire class shuffled into the hall and headed towards the rear of the building where the computer lab resided. Our assignment for the day was to learn about local events using search engines and news websites. Not that hard of a task but each pair of students was going to be given a keyword to search with and had to match it up with something that happened within the city.

After claiming our computer, I settled myself in front of the keyboard and smiled at Terry. He commented, "You just wait until we get a crappy word to look for."

While Mr. Shear went around the room having each pair of students select an index card out of his hands, I signed on to instant messaging and wasn't surprised to see Barbara was online. With at least five minutes before we would get our card, I clicked on her name and typed: hola!

**OraBG99:** Hey kiddo. Aren't you at school?

**MWhinney: **yeah we're in the computer lab for class

**OraBG99:** Sounds like fun, are you doing a project?

**MWhinney: **we have to look stuff up online

**OraBG99:** Well have fun!

**MWhinney: **lol i will

Just before Mr. Shear approached our computer, I closed the window and logged off. Since I had claimed the keyboard, I decided to let Terry pick out our topic. He carefully weighed his chances before picking one of the three remaining index cards. He looked at it briefly before reading aloud, "Playing card."

"Not bad," I commented, "Could have been worse."

Katarina, who was partnered with Piper, caught my attention from the desk behind me, "Hey, what did you get?" I told her and then asked what they had picked out, "Shark, how lame is that?"

As I opened up the Internet explorer, Terry said, "I bet someone has Batman."

"No, that would be too easy," I replied as I typed in 'playing card Gotham City' into Google.

In less than ten seconds, the results page showed up with over two hundred and fifty thousands results. Awesome. I went back and entered the same text, this time pressing the "I'm Feeling Lucky" button rather than the regular search button.

The Gotham Post website came up and Terry commented, "Nice, it's from this morning."

I scrolled down to see the bold heading of the article: Clown Prince Returns to Arkham! It was right above a large colored picture of a pale man in an orange jumpsuit strapped down to a gurney. The caption read: The Joker, still under court ordered sedation, returns today to Arkham Asylum to carry out the remainder of his multiple back-to-back life sentences.

"Whoa… this is perfect," Terry whispered as he read.

"I don't think we should do this one," I found myself saying for no reason in particular.

"Come on, everyone else is going to be stuck talking about concert halls and new office buildings, we can talk about the Joker."

I was still uneasy about it but I didn't want Terry to miss out on something he wanted to present to the class. We both skimmed the article, just to make sure our assigned words were present. I found them halfway through the four page article: "The Joker is known for leaving **playing card**s of his namesake at scenes of crimes and attacks…"

"Well, in case we can't use this, we should find another one."

Terry nodded, "I guess."

Unfortunately, every link we clicked on went back to the Joker. News articles. Court results. Wanted criminals information. Fan pages. Although I never really read the newspaper, I sometimes watched the news on TV with Dad right before dinner.

Whenever anything related to Batman or some of the more popular criminals ever came up he would change it to the weather channel. I knew some of their names, like the Joker, Poison Ivy, Two-Face and had even looked them up online.

Whenever I found out something new, I realized why Dad didn't want me to watch them on TV.

They were the stuff of horror movies.

After giving up on finding a normal article, Terry asked, "Maybe another search page?"

I shook my head, "No, this is fine. Really. A lot better than sharks."

"You sure?"

I looked up at him and realized he was actually serious. Most of the time he picked on me whenever I actually acted like a girl, but at that moment, he looked as if he was worried. After a moment I shrugged the thought off. To reassure me, Terry leaned in and spoke, "Hey, if you're going to go, go with a smile."

^V^

In the short number of years since Dick and I had started our security consultant firm, we had evolved from a simple and spacious office that inhabited a quarter of the third floor of the Erickson Commercial building to encompassing nearly three quarters of the entire floor. Throughout the month of December, as an unannounced early Christmas gift, Bruce had financed a complete renovation of the office in order to acclimate room for Tim, Dick, Will and I as well as Cassandra when she saw fit to play along as our assistant. In addition, we were outfitted with our first official meeting room complete with outlandishly lavish mahogany furniture and plush carpeting.

Even Frank had his own leather recliner in my office.

I had in fact been sitting with him in his chair when I had unfolded the morning's Gotham Gazette.

I had promptly made it to my feet, forcing Frank to leap to the floor.

I had then ripped the Gotham Gazette in half.

Nearly a year before Bruce had been shot by Pasqualle, the Joker had once more escaped the ever failing confines of Arkham Asylum. It wasn't long before he made himself comfortable within Gotham City limits, gunning down an entire restaurant full of people because he wanted the all you could eat seafood buffet to himself. After a pound of jumbo shrimp, he had succumbed to minimal efforts by the SWAT team.

Despite the sheer number of lives he had ended in his reign of terror, he had yet to truly pay for his crimes. Given his ability to slay guards and escape the confines of maximum-security institutions, a judge had gone through extreme measures to ensure no one would fall at the hands of the Joker again. A newly introduced bill had allowed for chemical restraints to be utilized in controlling certain criminals with extreme mental incapacities with inordinate body counts.

The Joker certainly qualified.

For nearly a decade, he had been blissfully lost in a sedative induced catatonic state in a facility just outside of the FBI training academy in Virginia. He, alongside fourteen other selected convicts were tended to daily to ensure their health and well-being while at the same time seeing to it that they didn't so much as flinch a finger.

I had almost expected to live out my days without him ever taking another breath in my city.

After destroying the paper, I had quickly taken my seat at my desk, my fingers barely able to function enough to punch in his name into the search engine on my desktop. The first result popped up and I found myself looking at the slumbering face of a man who had slain my wife. The beast that had crippled my daughter…

Given the continued success of the chemical restraints, the facility had decided to certify mental institution officials on the proper medication and care of the sedated prisoners. Arkham Asylum now boasted a staff of four certified staff members, a physician, a nurse and two orderlies.

Thus, the Joker's return to his hometown.

Despite having a fairly full schedule, I found myself unable to focus on anything other than the fact that he was once more in my city. I forwarded all of my calls to voicemail, skimmed e-mails by the dozen and stared listlessly about my office. When a knock sounded at my door, I wasn't too surprised to see Dick's somber face, "Got a minute?"

I nodded, not able to offer a verbal response.

Once he sat down, Frank was quick to hop onto his lap, eager to find some sort of affection from a human being. Dick roughed up the dog's short hairs and pushed back the wrinkles of skin, resulting in a smooth visage.

We sat quietly for a several minutes before Dick sighed, "What a way to start the day."

I offered another silent notion of agreement.

"Tim and I are going down to scope out the new condo building on Florence. Then we'll probably head to mid-town to work on the software snafu at the Talbot gallery."

"Fine," I finally managed.

Despite the fact that he had a busy day ahead of him, Dick remained motionless in the chair, his eyes focused in on my face. When I met his gaze he spoke again, "Jim, if you want to take the day---."

I cut him off, "No, I'm all right. Besides, Will and I are due to finish the surveillance blue prints for the law office across the street. They've been breathing down my neck all week."

Whether it was years spent watching his mentor and I in staggered stalemates or if it was just plain old common sense, Dick quietly surrendered his campaign before silently stepping out of the room. Frank tried to follow him but paused at the doorway, staring longingly down the corridor before glancing briefly back at me.

A fraction of a second later he was zipping down the hall, yapping and snorting.

Just as I was about to return to my self-justified sulking, there was another rap at the door. Without looking up, I sighed, "Dick, I'm fine."

"Well, you must not be to confuse me with him."

My eyes shot up at the sound of Barbara's voice. She sported a sleeveless green silk blouse over tan pants. Her face bore a forced smile and her lap held a foil-covered plate. I stood on instinct and approached her, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"Figured I didn't need to eat all of these by myself," Barbara said offering me the plate. I didn't need to peel back the foil to know that it held freshly baked peanut butter cookies.

I took a seat in the chair Dick had occupied only moments ago and taste tested a cookie. Just as I was about to say that it would only be better with a glass of milk, my daughter offered forth an individual serving of 2 in a small plastic bottle. After rinsing my mouth, I spoke softly, "Did you see Dick on your way in?"

She nodded and reached over, breaking off half of a cookie before nibbling, "Yeah. He and Tim were on their way out. Will must have been in his office."

"We're supposed to get some work done on the place across the street but…" I looked away from her before continuing, "I just can't seem to motivate myself to do much today."

"I would say the same but I've been up since six, cleaning and cooking… Dick had so much for breakfast he said he had to wear his fat slacks to work today."

A silence fell between us, one neither of us were willing to break.

"Did you know about it? Before?" I finally asked. Since learning of her true occupation, as well as the secret identity of her and her closest acquaintances, she had always been very upfront about their investigations and findings. But the Joker was a topic I had always done my best to shelter her from. And vice versa.

Barbara shook her head, "No… Well, I found out when I was skimming the paper prints from the Gazette around four this morning. I told Dick when he got home and then got a hold of Tim and Cass before they quit patrols for the night. I guess they went up to Arkham to check things over… I mean with all of the security changes they've made over the last few years… Hardly anyone has escaped…"

"And Bruce?"

She was hesitant in answering, "When I woke up at six… that was why. I realized I hadn't told him. I couldn't contact him over the Oracom because he was in the house and I tried calling but Alfred said they were both sleeping still…"

I paused, trying to arrange my words in a way that would insult her. Unfortunately, I couldn't and I heard myself blurt out, "You could have called me."

After nodding slightly, she replied, "I know… and I should have. But I couldn't help but think that the later you found out, the less part of your day would be ruined… Stupid, I know. Hence the guilt cookies. I already have a plate of macaroons to take up to the Manor later."

We ate in silence, each taking another two whole cookies. I told her not to feel guilty about her action, or lack there of. She said I was just trying to be nice but I assured her I was telling the truth. I then added, "Besides, I'm not the one to be worried about. Bruce on the other hand…"

She sighed, "True. Hopeful the macaroons will sate some of his fury."

I kissed her again and thanked her for the cookies. When she invited me to dinner, I gladly accepted, knowing it would help ease her mind more than anything.

Alone again, I attempted to work once more, finding progress slow but my mind far less distracted. A little after an hour after he had departed, Frank trotted in and sat right in front of me before hacking and sneezing, a bad habit of his to earn attention. I held a cookie above his flat head and said, "Sit, Frank."

He hacked.

"Sit."

He stood up on his hind legs, his front paws folded over his broad chest.

Close enough.

^V^

Despite the fact that we always celebrated the end of the school year with a big family dinner, after the last day of classes I found myself at the dining room table with only my children.

After picking them up from school, I had done my best to feign excitement as they both fought to tell me about their day first. I recall only something about Mattie winning a painting contest in art class and that Nathan had eaten green Jell-o. Arriving home, Alfred congratulated them on growing another year wiser and offered fresh muffins and juice.

Once they were settled in the breakfast nook with their snack, I had returned to the kitchen with Alfred. Before I could ask, Alfred he offered the same answer he had given me every day for the last week, "I'm afraid Master Bruce is still performing research downstairs."

And just as I had for every day over the last week, I sighed and looked over my shoulder at two black haired, blue eyed angels, blissfully unaware of the world around them.

With the Joker back in Arkham, even an unconscious Joker, Bruce had frighteningly dropped the cool, relaxed form of Bruce Wayne the father and husband and returned to the brooding, growling ways of Batman the dark knight detective.

I noticed the beginning of the transformation the very moment it happened. We had been sharing breakfast that had been delivered to us by Mattie, Nathan and Alfred. I had been quick to attack a plate of banana nut pancakes while Bruce settled for coffee and the newspaper. It wasn't until I had eaten my pancakes, and one of his that I noticed he was still reading the front page.

Licking syrup noisily from my lips, I leaned into his arm, "Something interesting?"

He grunted softly before offering me the paper. While I read on about the arrival of the Joker in Gotham, Bruce rose from the bed, donned his robe and stormed out of the bedroom. There was no need to follow him, as I knew exactly where he was headed. Not twenty minutes later, Mattie slowly walked into the room and I tossed the newspaper on my nightstand before asking, "What's up, kiddo?"

"Where's Dad?"

Not the first time I had to lie for him, "He had to go to work early."

She had crept up onto the bed and eyed the breakfast tray, "He didn't like his pancakes?"

"Oh he did, hon, but he had to go before he could finish…. You want to help me finish it for him?"

She shook her head, a few loose waves of hair shifting over her brow, "No, I had some with Alfred… Is Dad still coming to my soccer game?"

"We'll see," I had replied before telling her to get ready for school.

Two hours later, I had showered, changed, dropped off the kids, checked my e-mail, called in sick to the Preserve before finally forcing myself to make my way into the Cave. Just as I had found him so many times before, Bruce was attacking the keyboard at the computer bay with a vengeance. The massive display screen was filled with many windows showing news coverage, articles, dossiers and images of Arkham as well as its newest resident.

"Bruce?"

It took five minutes before he grunted, "What?"

"Were you---."

Barbara's face appeared onscreen, "It took a few tries but I cracked into the patient files at the hospital down in … Oh, hi Selina. Am I interrupting?"

Bruce had replied far quicker to her than he had to me, "No. Send them to the Crays. Also, I want access to the security camera in his cell."

Barbara's computerized visage had glanced in my direction briefly before replying, "Consider it done."

I had remained standing behind Bruce's chair for few minutes before he asked, "What were you saying?"

Despite wanting nothing but to claw his face unrecognizable, I said, "Nothing…" before leaving him to his work.

And so it had been for seven days, Bruce hunkered down in the Cave, day and night while I was trying to keep things as normal as possible for the kids. Soccer games with Mattie, end of the school year parent play party with Nathan. By the third day, Mattie stopped asking where Bruce was all of the time but Nathan didn't seem to mind as long as someone was there to play with him.

But even playing with the Playskool race car track, I couldn't help thinking that it was just like it was before Bruce stepped down, except for this time he was leaving behind three of us instead of two.

In honor of the last day of school dinner, Alfred asked for Mattie's assistance in deciding upon and preparing the meal. Thankfully, Alfred always seemed to be able to distract Mattie from her worries by giving her purposeful tasks to perform. After she decided she wanted dinner to be a surprise for me, I was sequestered in the den with Nathan and a bumblebee wooden puzzle set he had received from his teacher.

While he buzzed and assembled the pieces, I turned the television on low and found the local evening news program. The Joker was not only affecting my family, but apparently he was affecting others as well. Nearly one hundred protesters had been taking up residence every morning outside of Arkham Asylum with poster boards declaring Off With His Head and other heartwarming messages. Many of the protesters were families of victims and the remainders were citizens who didn't want to ingest Smile-x anytime soon.

Just as the reporter began a recap of the Joker's lengthy history of violence and mayhem, I heard Mattie enter the den, "Dinner's almost ready… Alfred wanted me to ask what you would like to drink."

"Oh…" I stammered while changing the station to the Learning Channel, "Milk's fine for us, hunh, Nate?"

He looked up at me from the floor and grinned, "Buzzzzzzzz!"

Instead of leaving with her drink orders, Mattie walked around the end of the couch and sat next to me, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

She paused before starting, "Well, we had to do this thing at school last week, looking up words in news articles… And my word… it ended up being in an article about..."

"About what, Mattie?" my heart skipped a beat.

"The Joker."

I asked, "Did you read it?" After she nodded, I continued, "Was there anything you didn't understand in it?"

She shrugged, "Not really… I… I read the one that said he was coming back to Gotham… but then later… I looked up other ones and read them… He was the one that hurt Barbara? That made her have to be in a wheelchair?"

I found myself nodding before speaking, "He's a very bad man. He's… he's also very sick… he can't tell right from wrong. He thinks that all of the bad things that he does is a big joke."

"Makes sense," Mattie said, "Since his name is the Joker."

I offered a small smile before replying, "Exactly."

Mattie was quiet for a minute before asking another question, "Did he ever hurt Dad?"

Blocking the image of a glass case forever holding Jason Todd's costume, I asked, "Why do you say that?"

"I thought that… maybe that was why he's been working a lot… because he's upset about the Joker."

Looks like deductive reasoning was hereditary.

Thirty minutes later, Chicken Marsala was successfully added to Mattie's culinary skills, and shortly afterwards Crème Brûlée. Usually Bruce made a brief appearance just after dinner to tuck Nathan in and to spend a brief five minutes with his daughter before scavenging a handful of nourishment from the kitchen on his way back to the Cave.

But there was no sign of him as I bathed Nathan and helped Mattie find a place on her corkboard to pin up her winning art piece. Even after reading to a half-sleeping Nathan and tucking Mattie and Taffy in for the night, he was nowhere to be found. It was as I was running bath water in our bathroom and pinning up my hair that I finally heard his footsteps.

Without a word he leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, "I was just with Mattie…"

"Good, because I've been with her all week," I growled softly.

Instead of snapping back, Bruce sighed, "I know… and I'm sorry, Selina but…" his voice trailed off.

Not about to start a fight, I turned away from him and finished inserting a bobby pin in my hair, "What did she say?"

"That she was worried about me… I don't know who she's starting to resemble more… Alfred or Leslie." I kept my face away from his in order to hide my smile. I listened as he continued; "She said you talked to her, about the Joker."

Removing my jewelry, I replied, "I didn't show her the VICAP files or anything." I caught his face in the reflection of the mirror as he fought to hide his own smirk. "She wanted to know if he hurt you."

I expected him to ask for every detail of the conversation, every nuance that I told our daughter of his worst enemy. What I didn't expect was the brush of rough stubble on my neck and his lips at my ear.

^V^

In the two weeks since the Joker had returned to Gotham City, he had infiltrated every minute of my day.

At the office, I couldn't help but check in with Barbara who was linked directly into his cell at Arkham. At home, I pummeled sand bags and shadow boxed until his imaginary form was bloodied and lifeless. And then on patrols, whenever the police scanner went off my pulse doubled while I waited for the inevitable report that he had escaped.

After a few sleepless nights, Cass had forced me to perform tai chi with her at the townhouse. She had quickly recognized my false relaxed state and had swung out with her leg, sending me to the floor. I had no intention of retaliating but she had pounced on me as if I was about to do the same to her. In a fraction of a moment, I was face first into the hardwood floor with a prominent knee digging into my left kidney and my right arm bent backwards in a direction that fought physics.

"Tim," she spoke softly.

"What?" I growled.

"Relax."

"That's kind of impossible right now…"

She jabbed her knee twice into my back and wrenched harder on my arm before speaking again, her tone as even as if we were thumb wrestling, "Relax."

It took a bit of effort but I forced my body to breathe out the tension, allowing my pulse to settle and my muscles to go slack. When I expected her to release me, she jabbed again at my side and twisted my arm before leaning in to kiss my cheek, "Much better, right?"

Letting my weight fall to my left side, I reached back with my right hand and dug my flattened palm into her hip before rolling over, forcing her to rest under my back. I was on my feet without hesitation, my hands latching on to hers in order to bring Cass to her feet. Although she feigned collection, there was a slight hint of worry in her eyes. To qualm it, I leaned in and kissed her.

We spent the rest of the afternoon together, including lunch on the couch while watching The Prestige on DVD followed by jogging around the neighborhood beside one another. Although at first purely for exercise, it wasn't long before it turned into a brutal game of Tag, racing each other down bare sidewalks and reaching out to pass on the position of being "It".

Returning to the townhouse, I offered her the master bathroom first so that I could catch up on some things for the firm. Working alongside Dick, Jim and newcomer Will was a dream job. There was a relaxed nature about the office where we bickered and taunted one another freely while at the same time managing to perform tasks with flying colors. In early January, the Gotham Chamber of Commerce had given us a plaque of recognition, honoring us for our flawless customer and community services.

That and I could show up anytime after ten in the morning.

Before I had joined up, Cass maybe went in every month or so to help out during an inordinately busy week. But being home alone must have lost its splendor because on my second week as a workingman, she showed up promptly at noon to meet us for lunch before spending the afternoon performing busy work. Whenever Will and Jim were out of the office things tended to drift away from well-focused productive work to recapping the previous night's patrols.

And on the rare occasion, some office equipment sparring.

But since the Joker had returned to Gotham there had been no hole punch fencing, only tense silences in the absence of those with only one identity. I hadn't noticed the new dreary routine until Dick had entered my office one afternoon walking on his hands, asking, "Do you think Harley's been reading to him, you know like they do for coma patients?"

It was the first genuine smile I managed in far too long.

Then tension was still present in our midday privacy but at least we managed to start talking about the Joker rather than burying him deep inside our minds. A place I would rather not have a sadistic, homicidal clown. Even at night I was able to focus on patrols without glancing over my back for a pale-faced green haired monster. Just before he had returned to Gotham, I had been in the midst of tracking an underground fighting ring that had events all over the city each week. The rough estimates I managed suggested that it was racking in over thirty grand in bets each week.

Not a bad take for a man fish-hooking and eye-stabbing a complete stranger.

Just as I was heading out of the office that evening, Dick caught me at my doorway, "Hey, you got a minute?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"I was thinking… I might head to the Haven tonight."

He was asking permission, from me, to crack skulls in a city had had stood guard over for years. I mused him by replying, "Well, your grades have been pretty good Dick… I guess you can as long as you promise to be home before curfew. And make sure the tank is filled up."

Although a challenge, Dick remained deadpan, "Ah, gee thanks Pop."

Not four hours later, I distinctly regretted encouraging Dick to take off for the night.

I had just wrapped up touring Grant Park as well as the docks when I decided to try my luck at detective work. From what I had seen of the fighting ring, there were nine known locations that were rotated through seemingly at random each week. Barbara had set up a few possible orders of go and in consideration of the date she had three possible locations for the fight to go down that night.

Just as I was about to begin my tour, I spotted a cloaked figure on the roof of the Hotaling building. Since Batgirl was across town and Nightwing opted for a bare backside, it left one sole being. I nodded slightly and Huntress paused briefly before turning and disappearing out of sight.

Although she had been back in Gotham since February, we had not collaborated a great deal. She had visited the Clocktower to retrieve new equipment and to get a briefing from Barbara as well as for some girl chatter. I had arrived silently through the window just as they had been laughing over the latest episode of America's Next Top Model.

But as reluctant as I had been to let her back in, Huntress had done her fair share of work. Although significantly less violent than her previous term in Gotham, she still had a way with criminals, from mere muggers to drug dealers.

Nearly five minutes after watching her silhouette vanish, I headed to the Bowery to an abandoned recreational center. No doubt the gymnasium offered plenty of room, and mats if needed, to have multiple fights at once. Unfortunately when I arrived there was nothing more but a dozen squatters. With a fairly quiet evening of patrols, I didn't hesitate to move on to the next location, hunting down two muggers on my way to the notoriously seedy bar called The Can Can. Despite a fairly big Hold'em tournament and a pair of underage boys at the bar, nothing too dubious.

Third time was always a charm.

The next and final stop on my list was Leguizamo's Laundry Service just a few blocks from Amusement Mile. Although not the ideal location for brawling, it had a massive basement area with nice cold concrete to break your fall.

Seeing as how my first two stops had been fruitless, I should have been pleased to find over sixty bare-chested men waiting their turn to take on one another. Obviously outnumbered, I made a call to Batgirl and then Oracle informing them of my find. Batgirl was only ten minutes away and Huntress would be there in fifteen. Oracle was on standby to call in the police on my word. Thus breaking the first two rules of Fight Club: you do not talk about Fight Club.

I had all intention of waiting for Batgirl so that we could each take on thirty or so men but as I looked through the grimy window of the dry cleaner's basement, I spotted someone breaking the fourth rule: only two guys to a fight. I spotted at least a dozen men pushing a lone soul around and when the poor sap fell down, the kicking began, quickly followed by cheering.

Not one to break the codes set forth by Tyler Durden, I saw to it that the third rule was observed, when someone says stop, goes limp, taps out the fight is over. Without hesitation, I crashed through the window feet first. With all of the attention on me, I was able to enforce the fifth rule, only one fight at a time.

With fists flailing, I opted not to go bare-chested or barefooted as instructed by the sixth rule. Once Batgirl and Huntress arrived, I activated tear gas bombs to help deter our combatants, as I wasn't too keen on following the seventh rule of letting fights go on as long as they have to. Slowly, hacking bodies began collapsing to the floor, but not before they were dealt a swift uppercut or vicious kick to the head. When the sirens approached outside, every single being was moaning and groaning on the floor.

After all, if it was your first night of Fight club, you had to fight.

^V^

At ten past two, Ms. Barbara had telephoned directly to my chambers that both Master Tim and Ms. Cassandra were in need of some minor medical attention. After confronting a group of rather unsavory gentlemen, they had suffered few fairly minor injuries. Not unexpected when the numbers are thirty-to-one.

I had not tended to either Master Tim or Ms. Cassandra in some time. In fact, my last patient had in fact been Master Bruce following Matches Malone's final stand. Following his limited participation in nocturnal activities, I had noticed Master Bruce had considerably less late night visits to the Cave to check in with Ms. Barbara. The first month following his injuries, it had been understandable seeing as how his wife threatened his well being if he didn't obey Dr. Thompkins orders. But in the weeks and subsequent months following, he made the trek to his former abode perhaps once or twice a week.

That was until the Joker reared his ugly head once more…

As expected, Ms. Cassandra suffered a few minor lacerations on her forearms in addition to a collection of contusions from head to toe. Although when she stepped off of her motorcycle upon entering the Cave, not a single soul would have been able to detect she had even the slightest scratch. Her ability to control her body language was only outdone by her seemingly natural skill in reading it. As she walked smoothly towards me in the medical bay, she pulled back her mask revealing a garish bruise across her left cheekbone before smiling, "Hi, Alfred."

"Good evening, Ms. Cassandra. If I may, you look rather chipper considering tonight's events," I commented as she sat on the gurney.

After removing her gloves, opening up wounds that had already coagulated, she replied, "Not chipper… More like… content."

"Ah, well there is nothing quite like a good rumble to close out a Friday evening."

She smirked at me but offered no verbal reply as she removed her damaged tunic, leaving her in a black tank top and her leggings and boots. A natural combatant, it was difficult for her to find joy in anything other than violence. Thankfully, with the aid of Ms. Barbara, Dr. Thompkins and myself, she had become far more than a soldier. She had become a charming young woman.

"May I inquire as to where Master Tim is?" I asked while beginning the tedious task of washing away dried and fresh blood alike.

"He was meeting with the Commissioner, then he said he would be up." As I retrieved a bottle of saline to help clean her wounds, I was about to ask about the severity of his when she spoke, "He's okay. Like me, just a few scratches."

Scratches. I put a total of thirty-six stitches in her collected set of scratches.

When I began palpating her rib cage and abdomen for tenderness, she spoke quietly, almost a whisper, "Huntress was there."

Ms. Helena's return to Gotham may have been prudent for Master Tim's Batman, but it was not the case for Master Bruce. Although he approved of his young successor's choice in allowing a familiar face into his war on crime, I knew he was still uneasy about matters. A seemingly unpredictable vigilante, Master Bruce knew all too well about the risks involved with working alongside the Huntress. Master Tim had not shared the same experiences as his predecessor, and I hoped for his and Ms. Helena's sake, that he never would.

"May I inquire as to what condition she escaped in?"

"Same as us, but she went to see Leslie."

I nodded, "A wise choice on her part."

When the Batman first stepped into the city limits of Gotham, I had been the only sole to know of his true identity. Over the years a number of colleagues, and unfortunately enemies as well, had also been given or had discovered the truth. Having never gained Master Bruce's trust, she had never learned of his identity. As a matter of fact, the only face she had ever seen without a mask had been Ms. Barbara's and I hoped for everyone's sake that she had not discovered that she was the daughter of the former commissioner.

And the wife of Bruce Wayne's adopted son.

While applying fresh gauze to cover the more sever lacerations, I heard the faint sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. I focused my attention on Ms. Cassandra's forearm but I knew her almond shaped eyes were aimed directly at our late night visitor.

"Cassandra… Are you all right?" his voice was far gentler than I had expected.

She glanced down at herself, perhaps finally realizing that she was starting to resemble a mummy. "Oh, I'm okay. They didn't have any weapons really, aside from beer bottles."

Master Bruce gazed at his young protégé briefly before glancing towards her lone motorcycle, "Where's Tim?"

She reiterated on how Master Tim was visiting with Commissioner Kelsey before taking leave to the Cave. And then without further inquiry, she continued to explain the course of events leading up to their injuries. I heard her recount many battles and she seemed to be holding back some of the juicer details.

For my sake? Or his?

Once I had completed tending to Ms. Cassandra, I excused myself briefly to prepare a room on the second floor. When my patient began to rise from the gurney in protest, I silenced her with the raise of one hand, "I must insist, Miss Cassandra. Those sutures will need examining in the morning."

She agreed without further protest but I knew it was not only to appease my concerns but also for a chance at breakfast.

Leaving Master Bruce and Ms. Cassandra, I took the stairs slowly to the Manor and then made my way to the kitchen. After fixing a plate of sandwiches, I filled two glasses with ice and water. I then proceeded to visit the laundry room to retrieve fresh linens and a clean duvet. As I approached the elevator, both hands very much full, I heard light footfalls from behind me. Turning, I was pleasantly surprised to see Ms. Selina in her husbands house coat, "I take it he's still downstairs?"

"Astute as always," I replied as she held out her hands to take the blankets.

We rode up together in the elevator to the second floor. When the gilded doors opened, I stepped out and she followed suit. It wasn't until we had fitted the spare room bed that she finally spoke again, "Are they okay?"

"Nothing a few stitches and ice packs won't fix."

"Good to hear… well, please tell Bruce that the meter on his pillow is running out."

"I will relay the message, Ms. Selina. Good night."

"Good night, Alfred."

After she made her way to the stairwell, I opted to return to the elevator. After climbing the stairs so many times during the day, it was difficult to motivate myself to do so in the late hours of the night.

Once on the ground floor, I came across Ms. Cassandra in the corridor. After informing her which room had been arranged and that refreshments were waiting, she stepped forwards and unpredictably wrapped her bandaged arms around my neck before planting a kiss on my cheek, "You're the best."

"Thank you, dear. Now, I shall see you in the morning."

When I made it to the bottom of the granite steps, Master Bruce was at the computer bay talking to Ms. Barbara over the OraCom system. While waiting for Master Tim, I tidied up the medical area and went about precutting gauze and arranging suture materials and sterilizing equipment. Tasks completed I looked up just in time to see Master Bruce making his way back to the Manor.

Not forty seconds later, the roar of a speeding motorcycle ravaged the cavern's eerie calmness.

As they say, perfect timing.

^V^

After returning to bed, I found Selina buried beneath the down comforter, my pillow held captive in her arms. Not wanting to wake her, I reclined beside her quietly and allowed my head to lay flat on the mattress. Less than a minute passed before Selina rolled over, hitting me in the face with my pillow.

"Love you, too," I muttered.

Wide awake, she rolled over to face me, "Hey, you snooze you lose."

"You were snoozing, I was…"

When I didn't finish, she spoke, "Exactly," before yawning, "We can fight in the morning, I'm sleepy."

And she was. Within minutes she was snoring quietly while I was still wrestling with my thoughts. As I outlined the streets of Gotham in my head, I eventually found my body relaxing. I was on the corner of Brady and Lexington when my eyes finally closed.

When they opened, I was staring right down Blue Eye Central.

"Morning, Dad."

After clearing my throat, I managed, "Good morning, Mattie…. What time is it?"

"Eight-thirty," she replied still lying on top of me. "Mom sent me up here to wake you because Tim and Cassandra are here for breakfast."

"Ah… Well, tell her I'll be down in a little bit."

Mattie rolled off of me and proceeded to sit on Selina's side of the bed, showing no intention of leaving. When I was about to repeat myself, she spoke, "Mom said I couldn't leave until you were actually getting ready."

"Did she now?"

She nodded, the beginnings of a devilish smile coming to her lips. I sat up as well and pushed back the covers. As I stepped into the bathroom, I saw that Mattie had also gotten to her feet and was heading towards the hallway.

Before I could shut the door behind me, she turned back to face me and offered a full smile, "Just checking, Dad."

Unescorted, I arrived downstairs twenty minutes later, showered, shaved and dressed. In light of our guests, I decided to check the dining room first. Sure enough, the long mahogany table was set for six. Entering the room, I brought about a sudden pause in conversation, of which Nathan broke by slipping off of his booster seat and running towards me, "Daddy!"

After picking my son up, he kissed my cheek sharing the raspberry sauce from his pancakes with me. Instead of putting him back in his chair, I allowed him to sit with me. I glanced over to Tim and Cassandra, not too surprised to see them both wearing long sleeved shirts despite the high forecast for the day. "To what do we owe the pleasure?" I asked, allowing Nathan to take my napkin from the table.

Tim smirked, "We're mountain biking up at Rockledge Park for the weekend. Figured we'd drop in before we left since we can't go to Mattie's soccer game this afternoon." A creative cover story seeing how mine always fell under the "having to go to work early" category.

Mattie wiped a smudge similar to her sibling's from her lip and said, "Forget soccer, can I go biking?"

Before I could speak, Tim did, "Maybe next time, Mattie. Hate for you to miss out on a few more MVP points just to ride a bike through mud puddles."

Having missed the first half of breakfast, it wasn't long before everyone else had finished. Nathan managed to not only finish his plate but also helped me with my own. Although I was forced to put a stop to his feeding me after the third time he stabbed my lower lip.

Remaining fairly silent, I listened as Mattie talked with Tim and Cassandra, eager to know what was going on in their lives. During the school year, it was a rare opportunity to spend time with them, which was perhaps one reason why Mattie seemed so eager for summer to start. Her lessons with Cassandra had been fairly irregular, happening maybe once or twice over the course of a month. It wouldn't be long before things retuned to normal and before Mattie started jabbing away at the punch bag she found in the Manor's gym…

My focus snapped to when my daughter said, "… I can't wait for August though, they're starting a modified gymnastics team at the middle school and if you're good enough you can get in before you're in sixth grade…"

I cleared my throat and Selina dug her claws into my thigh before I was able to comment on this news. As I scowled at her, she said, "Doesn't Katarina take gymnastics lessons?"

"Yeah, three times a week now."

"Maybe we can see about getting you in as well, that way you can learn together."

Mattie paused before asking, "Really?

"Really really," Selina said as she released her hold on my leg.

After breakfast, Selina went with Mattie upstairs to pack her bag for a sleepover at her friend Piper's. When she had asked permission to go two weeks earlier, I had inquired as to what the occasion was and Mattie had shrugged, "Girl's night, Dad." Seeing how it was limited to those of the XX factor, Selina offered to drop her off, of which I was relieved to hear. I found it very difficult to leave her behind at other people's houses, even for just the night. And Mattie was growing to find my ritual of checking her belongings and asking her questions increasingly pointless.

"Well, I guess we should get going…" Tim said suddenly.

I nodded and let Nathan to the floor before standing myself, "Of course."

Cassandra stepped forward and knelt before Nathan, asking for a hug. He hesitated a moment before launching himself at her. Taken by surprise, Cassandra fell back laughing quietly as her captor cried out, "Bye-bye Cassie!" If his attack had bothered her injuries, she showed no sign of it.

As much as I wanted to speak with them about the previous night, it would have been far too difficult to do so in Nathan's presence. Selina seemed to always leave behind one of the children in the company of Tim and Cassandra or Barbara and Dick as a way deterring shoptalk during the daylight hours.

Before they had been born I had no recollection of Batman was so it hadn't been too much of a problem.

"I'll give you a call later, tell you how things went," Tim said, his smirk covering for the seriousness of his words.

"Look forward to it," I said while watching Cassandra get to her feet, Nathan still in her hold.

He looked over his tiny shoulder and grinned at me, "Bye-bye Daddy."

"Oh, you're going home with them?" I asked. Giggling, he nodded before burying his face in Cassandra's collarbone. "I suppose for the right price you can have him, Tim."

As Tim reached for his wallet Nathan's eyes doubled in size before he spun around in Cassandra's arms, reaching out for me. Tim announced, "All I have is forty dollars."

"Bruce," Selina growled as she approached, calling for an instant end to the charade. She stepped passed me and smiled at Nathan before taking him from Cassandra, "Maybe we should sell Daddy… But I don't have any cash on me, Tim, so I'll get you change next time."

Instead of scowling, I smirked and wrapped an arm behind Selina's back.

When she returned from her day out, it was going to be an incredible fight.

^V^


	19. What Lies Ahead: XIX

Title: What Lies Ahead: XIX

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: It's nice to be nice. Right?

Author's Note: Brief reference made to the WALL-E movie at the end, I'm in love already!

^V^

"You're… reproducing?"

Not the ideal wording or speech volume for the four star restaurant we were at but there wasn't much I could do. Especially considering Trey Richardson was… reproducing.

I hadn't seen him in a little over a year and had only talked to him a handful of times on the phone. Despite having been off of the force for nearly six years, I always did my best to try and keep in touch with the detectives that had put up with my over-achieving for so long. Trey included.

Following the bank shootout that had my face on the cover of countless newspapers and magazines, I had opted to retire while Trey had chosen to further his career. Now one of the most celebrated and highly regarded marksmen on the SWAT team, I still could only see the easily embarrassed young man that I had sent on more menial tasks then I cared to admit. Each time I spotted his face in the paper, I sent him a box of chocolates. Except I always saw to it that all of the chocolates had a bite taken out of them.

The first Wednesday in August, I had been elbow deep in floor plans at the firm, wanting nothing more than a back rub from Barbara and an afternoon spent watching movies in bed. Cassandra had buzzed in over my phone that I had a call coming in. I had answered in a cheery phone voice that surprised even myself, "DJG Security, this is Grayson."

"You're calling yourself by your last name, what are you, Mulder?"

I snickered, "Well if I'm Mulder, you made for one ugly ass Scully."

We talked for the better part of two hours, putting me that much further behind in my work. But for Trey, I would have erased all my phone messages and thrown my computer out the window. Tim came in once mid-conversation and had walked in on me laughing into the phone, "Hey, I never told you that you looked fat in your undercover hooker Halloween costume so don't even start."

When it came to the point when we ran out of things to joust each other with he asked, "Hey, I was thinking we should do dinner, some place nice. Your treat of course."

"Of course… Bringing that little lady of yours?"

"Only if you bring yours."

Trey had been seeing a woman named Shannon off and on since I wore the blue. About the same time I had been celebrating my second year of blissful marriage, Trey and Shannon had been vacationing in Las Vegas. And had a bounty of free drink coupons. And had gotten married. Although an act most would regret, Trey had been appreciative of having finally stepped up to the plate. He had dropped by asking for wedding gifts while showing us pictures of the ceremony when they had returned. The look in their flushed faces as Elvis pronounced them man and wife defined true love.

We agreed to meet that Friday night at Smith & Wollensky's at eight. A reservation would have been beyond easy to obtain by dropping Bruce's name but using my own managed to get the job done just as easily. Jim and I had done their security cameras for them when we had first started out and had managed to help them track down employees that had been stealing valuable dishware, wine and even kitchen appliances.

And having bought Barbara a fully pimped out Kitchen Aid mixer the previous Christmas, I could see why the manager was peeved when the crooked cook had walked off with three of them.

Since it was a fairly classy place, I put on one of my tailored suits and took the time to put a slate blue tie into a double Windsor. Since it still only took me minutes to get ready, I watched the tail end of Sportscenter while Barbara attacked her hair with pins. After a short summer haircut gone wrong, she had taken to wearing bandanas to cover her auburn locks.

"Ready?" she finally called out.

I hit the power button on the remote and slowly stood from the near horizontal position on the leather recliner. As I smoothed out my coat, I glanced up to see Barbara making her way down the hall. A fitted black ankle length skirt draped her legs while a form fitting satin bronze sleeveless top left me staring.

She shook her head, "Simmer down. And you're driving."

We arrived fifteen minutes early and I spent the time debating over wine. Both Alfred and Bruce had done their fair share in trying to provide me with a cultured upbringing but I would never admit to them that wine was wine. And besides, Guinness was better.

I gave into our waiter who had rambled on for a good three minutes about the restaurant's private reserve from the Napa Valley and had him bring a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon that was older than Mattie. Just as he began to pour for us, I heard Trey approaching, saying something to the effect that he was glad he wasn't paying.

Shannon was just as I recalled her to be, leggy for being only a few inches above five feet tall with. Long, wavy caramel hair with soft green eyes and a vibrant smile. As they approached, I stood and leaned in to kiss her cheek before pretending to do the same to Trey. He backed off for a moment and then grinned, "Hey, I'm a married man now…"

Trey patted my back briefly before stepping towards Barbara, kissing her cheek gently, "Great to see you, Barbara."

She smiled at him as he stood up, "You too, I like the goatee. Very... noble."

Shannon rolled her eyes as she sat beside Babs, "It's taken him six months to grow it…"

A look of panic washed over Trey's eyes as he sat down, "Shannon…"

"It's true," she replied while shrugging.

Through four courses, we were two ordinary couples enjoying a night out on the town. We often went out with Cass and Tim but somehow it never reached the sense of normalcy that overwhelmed me that night. Maybe that was because we always snagged a fairly private corner table so that we could reenact the previous night's highlights with our water glasses and table candles.

As Barbara stole a cherry off of my cheesecake, Trey cleared his throat, "So, how are the younger siblings?"

"Good, good. Mattie finished fourth grade this year… the big soccer queen… And Nathan, the little guy, he just wrapped up another tough year of pre-school."

"And Bruce and Selina?"

"Great, crazy as ever. Did you hear about his birthday party?"

Trey grinned, "Yeah, must have been something. Were you still there when it happened?"

I shook my head, "No, we had left a little bit before they… and even if we had gone back I knew they wouldn't have let me in, even with my dashing good looks."

We all shared a forced chuckle before Trey asked, "Well, Dick, Barbara… The reason I asked you out was…"

I glanced up at him, slightly put off by the nervousness in my former partner's face. It was a look I hadn't seen since I had made him type up over a hundred hand written pages of notes on his first day. "Ah, there's a ploy behind your friendliness."

Trey smiled briefly before his face softened, "Well, I wanted to tell you know in person that… Well, Shannon and I, well actually Shannon is... pregnant."

"You're… reproducing?" I found myself blurting out.

Trey's cheeks grew scarlet while Shannon laughed out loud before setting a hand on her husband's shoulder. Trey forced a chuckle but the nervousness still danced in his eyes.

"Well congrats, Trey. I mean it… After all if you can handle a loaded gun I'm sure you can handle a loaded diaper."

Trey's laugh was genuine that time, "Such a sweetheart, Dick… Well, I also, I wanted to ask you… We'd like you and Barbara to be the godparents."

Trey had asked a lot of me since he first stepped through the archway of the homicide division of Bludhaven Police Headquarters. He'd ask me to cover part of his shift so he could make it to a football party or help him with back work so he didn't have to work overtime. He'd even had gone as far as asking me to pick up his dry cleaning on my way back to the station from a crime scene.

Each and every time, I answered the same way, with a resounding no, more so to ruffle his feathers than anything.

I was half-tempted to say no just to see what he would do, but Barbara jabbed her fork in my side and replied for me, "Oh, Trey, we'd be honored."

"Really?" his voice was no longer that of a SWAT member, but of a twelve-year-old boy.

"Of course," I managed after Barbara removed her utensil, "When are you due?"

"March nineteenth," Shannon announced, her hand subconsciously going to her nearly flat abdomen.

Trey smirked, "Figured we could deliver late and then you could share birthdays."

"Some birthday gift, Trey," I replied, "I would have settled for a tie or an alarm clock, but a baby works too I guess…"

^V^

Focusing my binoculars in order to better see the face of the drug dealer standing three stories below me, I replied softly into the comm. link, "That's a mighty big responsibility… you know, for someone who still wears cartoon pajamas."

Nightwing replied, "Oh come on, Barbara gave them to me, if I don't wear them she'll burn the rest of my clothes."

I had been patrolling since just before the sun had set at a little after eight that evening. As Robin, I had never been bothered by delayed nightfall but as Batman, I found myself practically staring out the window until the sun vanished. Thinking back on all those nights when Bruce was hunkered down in the Cave taking his aggravations out in the gym, I finally knew why.

As Artie Towner, the dealer I had been looking into for nearly a week, began to cross the street, I pursued from up high. When I landed on the next rooftop, I heard Nightwing's voice again, "Trey said it was because I was so good with Mattie, you know, every time he saw me with her she looked like she was having the time of her life."

"Who wouldn't?" I replied quietly.

"And Shannon, you know, was choosing logic over that factor, thinking that we were responsible adults, would be able to provide for the child if anything happened to them."

"Of course."

"On the way home Babs was saying now I have another reason to heading to the Haven now, aside from beating up pierced lips and gun toting baddies. I can't even think of when the last time I've been up there during the daytime…"

I grunted softly as my prey hesitated at a crosswalk. A pair of very hungry looking prostitutes approached and I watched on as he soaked in the attention.

"But I guess the guys from homicide are going to throw him a testosterone laden baby shower sometime in October. Trey didn't have the details aside from the fact that the Captain is going to try and dress him up in a diaper… Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"You're about as good of a conversationalist as Cass ten years ago."

I smirked and moved forward as the prostitutes realized their guest had no money and had encouraged him off their corner with menacing words and stiff middle fingers.

Ah, the girls of Gotham.

Nightwing then resumed with, "So what are you up to? Things are pretty much dead down… here…"

"What?"

There was a slight pause before, "Thought some guy was trying to steal cab. Turns out he was the actual driver…"

"Ah."

He signed off shortly after, saying something about stopping in at the Clocktower to see Barbara. It was quarter passed two in the morning and with things as seemingly quiet as they were, I was fairly certain he was going to call it a night.

As the dealer I had been stalking bumped into his first and last customer of the night, a nineteen-year-old boy with a pale face a head full of greasy straw colored hair, I decided to announce myself. Leaping from the corner of the squat pizzeria I had been perched on, I landed feet first on top of the dealer, squashing him to the ground. Since the buyer had not had the chance to make a purchase, I acted out of kindness with a harsh blow to his midsection, sending him sprawling to the pavement.

"Leave, now!" I growled.

After the boy scrambled to his feet, I turned my attention back to my new friend. As he curled into a fetal position, I crouched above him rifling through his pockets. Although not much to look at, he certainly had enough to offer. I found more than a dozen dime bags of marijuana and two dozen more single serving bags of white pills.

"They're… they're not mine."

I leaned in closer, growling, "I've been watching you, Arthur. I know you're not smart. I know you're not smart enough to arrange shipments of X, not in the amounts you've been shelling it out. I know you couldn't raise a damn houseplant let alone enough marijuana to sell nickel and dime bags by the dozen. But I do know that you are smart enough not to lie to me. At least I hope so… for your sake," I clenched my hands onto the collar of his shirt and lifted him as I stood.

"I… I… my sister's boyfriend… He's trying to set something up for when he gets out of Blackgate next month. Sent me money from his dead mother's insurance policy to buy him some shit… I swear, it's not my idea. I'd never…"

With his feet nearly a foot above the ground, I glared into his panicking eyes, "Pass the word onto him. I'm watching. And I don't like what I see."

After tossing him into the exterior of the pizzeria, I took his moment of recovery to shoot a line up to the rooftop and ascended before he managed to look up. As I landed, I caught a glimpse of a tall, cloaked figure yards away. As the cape drifted away in the breeze, I spotted the silhouette of the Huntress.

"A lot rougher than I remember you being," she spoke.

Without responding, I left her to seek higher ground. Once in the seclusion of a ten-story apartment complex, I turned just in time to see Huntress land. She approached soundlessly despite the heavy soles of heeled boots. "Who is he?" she asked.

"Low-life acting on behalf of another low-life."

"Ah… nice to see there is still some honor among thieves…"

"Hardly worthy of being called honorable…"

Since she had returned, I had made little effort on my part to make her feel welcome. I'm not sure if it was the cowl drawing the energy of its former master or if it was the way she looked at me when we did have a chance encounter. Since having stepped up, I found that the others did little to remind me of the mask I once wore. Cass never mentioned it as a matter of fact and Dick only did when he grouped the two of us together as the Robins.

But when Huntress looked at me, I could see it in her eyes.

She was able to look beyond the black suit and right through the cowl Alfred fitted to me four years earlier. She saw a boy with too long hair in green boots not a man continuing a war on crime.

I had yet to confront her about it, mostly because she also had said nothing. When I had brought it up to Cass one night she had commented that it had taken them all time to adjust to the change. She also had suggested that Huntress was most likely trying to figure out just how much I was going to take after my predecessor. And by looking back how I had done my best to have others work alongside her rather than myself, I realized just how much I was acting like Bruce. And as much as I had taken from his image, I had wanted to wear this cowl as my own.

I supposed then was as good of a time as any.

"Need someone to tail him? I'm sure you've got bigger fish to fry," she spoke suddenly.

After a brief moment, I nodded, reciting his name, home address and the basic facts. Something changed in her face and she was on the verge of smiling. She departed a moment later, flying over rooftops with an ease only a select few could claim.

I heard Oracle's voice in my ear, "That was awfully sweet of you."

"How's that?" I asked before making my way north.

"Giving her one of your pet projects..." Before I could respond, she continued, "Dick's calling it a night. At least that's what I think him half dressed snoring on the couch means. And Cass is still beating the crap out of muggers in the Theatre district."

I thought to myself that at least someone was being productive as I prepared to fire a grapple.

Oracle's voice sounded once more, "So I was tinkering around with US Army combat research files during lunch today… I think they have a similar prototype for that Dragon Skin body armor than what Bruce has been working on."

Not at all surprised that Barbara had spent her afternoon breaking into top-secret government files instead of reading the monthly issue of Entertainment Weekly like most women, I replied, "Well, they are the army, they have slightly more money."

"I sent what I found to your Sat-Cave, you want me to send it to Bruce or would you like the honor?"

I hadn't really talked with Bruce since just after the Joker had returned to Arkham Asylum in June. And before then his looming presence was absent in the Cave when I did manage to make my way up to Bristol. We were long overdue for a round of catch up.

And August meant Alfred's divine charbroiled feasts…

^V^

After spending the afternoon at Mattie's soccer game, of which went into thirty minutes of overtime with a tied score of one-to-one, it was a fairly universal decision to take a dip in the pool before settling in for dinner. For the last week the temperature barely dropped below seventy at night and rainfall was at least six days away. I had made the mistake of bringing up my heat-relief idea on the drive home, and Nathan had spent the remaining six minutes in the car bouncing up in down in his car seat with excitement.

As a punishment, Selina deemed it my responsibility to get him changed into his tiny swimming trunks. I had managed to remove his clothes before he promptly ran out of his room and into the hallway bare-bottomed. I caught him at the stair well and ushered him back to his bedroom. Mattie, who had been able to change herself since she was four, stepped out of her room and spotted her younger brother, "Gross!"

She then ran passed us, covering her eyes as she dashed to the stairs.

"Gwohss?" he asked as we passed back into his room.

"That's why we have to wear our trunks, Nathan."

Appropriately dressed, I followed him into the hall just as Selina stepped into the corridor dressed in a cloth robe, "I'll take him down."

I paused briefly and whispered into her ear, "He is entirely all yours."

As I was closing the master bedroom door behind me, I heard her cry out, "Nathan put that back on!"

Mattie's near angelic toddler years had spoiled us, proven by the fact that Nathan was giving us an endless reeducation in childrearing. Although he didn't through tantrums as some young children did, Nathan found more creative ways to release pent up energy. Disrobing was only his most recently acquired skill, joining the ranks of throwing the bath toys out of the tub and playing with his bedside radio at night so he can jump and dance on his bed. In order to find humor in our dilemma, we had taken to constantly shifting parentage from one of us to the other. Being a Saturday, he was Selina's son, not mine.

After a particularly adventurous day in Nathan taming, Selina had once joked, "At least he was a charm to potty train."

Approaching the rear of the house which housed the pool, sauna and hot tub, I heard giggling and splashing and assorted fun. Passing through the double doors, I spotted Selina in the shallow end guiding a life vest bearing three-year-old through the water. A moment later, Mattie surfaced in the deep end, purple goggles in place above a satisfied grin as she victoriously showed a handful of silver dollars. A training exercise of mine that Mattie had seen as an instant game.

"Tim called," Selina said as she helped Nathan spin in the water.

I undid the towel that had been wrapped around my waist, "Oh, what did he have to say?"

"He might come up tomorrow night. Something about a personal security exercise that Dick has him doing for work." The look on her face said her response had been adlib but her voice didn't waver once.

"Ah, well, I'll call him, see if he wants to have dinner," I responded while sitting on the edge of the pool, letting my lower legs soak.

Mattie swam up next to me and looked up, "Coming in?"

"In a moment."

She moved to tread water in front of me. I found her line of sight fall on my knees and I looked down as well. Despite the time that had lapsed from my surgery, both legs still yielded a smooth pink scar running down my knee, nearly eight inches in length. Then again there were far more interesting scars that could have been captivating her attention…

Since Matches Malone fell to his demise, I felt as if Mattie's interest in my collection of scars had returned. And as a result, Nathan too had seemed to notice them. The explanation of the "bad accident" I had as a younger man sated Nathan but Mattie seemed to be keen on learning how each wound was struck.

Especially the unnaturally round dark scars where bullets had once passed through.

Without disturbing the water, I slipped off the edge and stood before Mattie, "Still have the coins?"

As a family, we stayed in the water well beyond the state of pruning. Mattie spent nearly twenty minutes practicing her dives off of the edge of the pool while Nathan was content riding on my shoulders. Although it was significantly easier to find free time since the only role I was responsible was that of Bruce Wayne, it was still a rare occasion to find all of us together at one time. Watching Mattie try and help Nathan paddle through the water made a true smile break on my face.

One that quickly disappeared when Selina snuck up behind me, dunking my head under water.

Towards the end of our aquatic afternoon, Alfred arrived to announce dinner would be ready in a half of an hour. Luckily, he had stood just out of range the splash from Mattie's cannonball. After giving "five more minutes" to Mattie and Nathan twice, we finally had them get out and dry off before heading upstairs. Selina headed for the master bedroom, thus leaving me the kids. Mattie, who had been more than eager to shower on her own, stepped into her bedroom and shut the door behind her.

One down, one to go…

After washing up and changing, we sat for dinner only two minutes late. Nathan's eyes became heavy before dessert and I opted out of sorbet and took him upstairs to read and tuck him in. Instead of returning downstairs, I walked into the master bedroom and sat on the floor by the bay windows.

I stretched my legs, arms and back before sitting comfortably in order to meditate. Sleep had been difficult of late and for Selina's sake, I had tried to help ease my mind and body before getting into bed. Nothing significant had changed in my life and I had convinced myself that I had accepted Joker's presence in Gotham. And yet I still spent hours at night staring up at the ceiling or at Selina's slumbering face.

One night she had woken and said for me to just go down to the Cave and get it out of my system. I had left, but had instead found seclusion in the study.

Not a moment before I was about to rise to my feet, I heard a soft rap at the door. Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Mattie and Selina walking into the bedroom.

"Are we reading in here tonight?" I asked as I slowly rose.

"Actually, Bruce, Mattie and I think we can pass on reading tonight," Selina answered as they moved to sit on the bed. Before I could ask why, she explained, "We were talking after dinner… and she wanted to ask you something."

I felt a heavy stone in my gut as I lost the state of relaxation I had just achieved. Never being an optimist, there was no denying what was coming. A result of my years of fighting crime, I had done my best to try and mentally prepare myself for any oncoming confrontation. And from the look on my wife and child's faces, there was no questioning that this would indeed require the strength of every fiber of my being.

After all, I had been dreading the very idea of telling her the truth since I first looked into her endless blue eyes.

"Dad, why does Nathan like to take his clothes off?

"Uh… Well," I felt a slight wave of relief wash over me, "Sometimes children his age don't mean to do the things that they, uh do… It's more of a game rather than meaning to… expose himself. Intentionally, rather."

"Do adults do it?"

"No, uh… Not in the same… for the same reason…"

"It's not a game then, it's about making babies, right?"

"Uh, well, predominantly, yes but…" I stammered.

Without an inkling of hesitation, she continued, "How do you make babies Dad?"

I suddenly realized that my ability to stare down mass murderers was apparently not up to par with talking to my own child about matters she didn't need to know about until she was thirty. Selina grinned at me, here eyes glowing in a way that I had only seen behind a purple mask. I tried a Bat-glare on her but she only beamed brighter.

I didn't realize the pause had been so long until Mattie asked, "Dad?"

"Sorry, kitten, where was I?"

She looked up at me, "You haven't said anything yet."

After a deep breath, I sat down beside her and began, "When a man and a woman…"

^V^

"Did he whip out pie charts and diagrams?"

Selina fought laughter as she replied, "No, but I bet he was damning himself for not having them ready."

Last fall, Selina had secretly enrolled Mattie in a sex education course offered by the school. It was mandatory that students pass the course before entering middle school but the school had decided to offer it to the fourth graders as well as the standard fifth grader class. Keeping any sign of her involvement from Bruce, Mattie had passed the two-week course without any trouble and had even talked to her mother about matters she wanted more information on. But the best part was that keeping Bruce out of the loop was only a step of a much bigger and much more diabolical plan. After learning about the basics, it was then on Mattie's shoulders to ask her father about the birds and the bees.

I had been on the comm. link talking with Dick as he patrolled the Bowery when Selina had called on my private line. He had been there for less than an hour and he already had me call in four separate units to pick up subdued baddies. The heat of summer brought out the best and worst in criminals. I personally would have rather stayed in my tacky hideout in front of a window A/C unit instead of running about Gotham with masked faces on my tail.

Without checking the caller ID, I answered impersonally, "Hello?"

"Tell me it's a quiet night for you," Selina had greeted me.

It really wasn't but multi-tasking was a way of life for me, "Sure, what's up?"

Prior to Bruce's shooting by Pasqualle I had a mixed relationship with Selina as Catwoman only. She had managed to contact me a handful of times, of which at the time I had been truly insulted by. Eventually, I realized I should have been appreciating her skill and was less bitter when she managed to use the phone line reserved for vigilantes. Now, her calls provided endless entertainment.

"Well before dinner tonight we went swimming with the kids and Mattie, Nathan and I washed up first and headed downstairs… Alfred said he had things under control so we went into the den to wait for Bruce and while the three-year-old terror played fetch with Taffy, Mattie said she was ready to ask her father about---."

"No way," I interrupted.

"Yes way."

Dick's voice came over the speakers, "Hey, since when does the 11:15 El train run five minutes---."

I muted him and asked Selina to tell me everything.

By the time I took Dick off of mute, he was occupying himself by singing Duran Duran while speeding towards Neville on his cycle.

Selina sighed and then said, "It's hard to say what my favorite part was, the look on Mattie's face when Bruce said copulate or the look on Bruce's face when she asked if we could go shopping for bras."

Grinning, I replied, "Should have taped it, talk about family memories."

There was a slight pause before she said, "Uh oh, Bruce is here… I'll tell you more tomorrow… Oh, are you and Dick free? Tim and Cass were coming up, we'd figured we could have dinner. Bet you could even con your Dad into coming."

"Count us in, good night."

"Indeed," she laughed.

Just as I closed the connection, an alarm toned out on the main display and I instantly brought the police scanner line up. A dispatcher who I dubbed "Nasal Ned" came over the speaker, "Requesting all available units in Charon, alarm sounding at Arkham Asylum, 19:34. No lights, no sirens requested."

"Copy, dispatch, Unit 456 responding."

Keeping an ear on the scanner, I opened the comm. link to everyone, "Heads up, alarm going off at Arkham. No report of escaped prisoners."

Batman's growl responded first, "I'm ten minutes out."

"Same here," Huntress answered.

"Yeah I'll probably get there just as the party's over… What's the cause?" Nightwing then asked.

I quickly navigated the security system and brought up the security transmission, "We got lights back in the maximum ward?"

A rough voice answered, "No, cells are all dead bolted, just no juice down here. When are the generators coming on?"

The first answered, "Should have come on two minutes ago… we got maintenance looking into it."

I spoke into my microphone, "Looks like they're having some power issues. Maximum security wing is secure but the generators aren't coming on."

Another tone sounded and that audio window linked me directly to the commissioner's cell phone. I also had links to her office and home phones as well as a shadowing program to keep track of her e-mails. I had initially done so on Bruce's orders to keep track of the new commissioner in order to make sure there wasn't corruption brewing once more in Gotham.

"This is Kelsey, Harry, tell me what the hell is going on."

A grizzled voice answered, "I'm riding up with car 425… SWAT's ten minutes out… We got a hold of security at Arkham, said they wanted back up in light of a power outage."

"Power outage… Any escape reports?" Kelsey replied

"No, not yet, Commish."

Five years earlier, it would have been my father's voice on the scanner, barking orders left and right. He would have been speeding up in a squad car, no doubt craving a forbidden cigarette. Upon arriving, he would have toured the corridors himself, flash light in hand, cursing the ever-infuriating stupidity that was Arkham. He also would have called in his personal back up, but as I listened intently to Kelsey's conversation, I wondered if she was going to do the same.

With Batman and Huntress already on their way, I contacted Batgirl seeing how she was the only who had not responded. She finally answered, "I'm in Coventry, shady business at the zoo. On my way now."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, followed some activists in. Wanted to let the black bears free. Until they were locked in with them… Then they liked them behind bars."

"Just the way I like my homicidal lunatics..." I replied before turning back to Kelsey..

"Commish, you en route?"

She paused on the phone line and I heard a distinct clank of metal. Looking out my small window, I smirked to see the fairly neglected Bat-signal blazing through the cloudless sky just as Kelsey replied, "I'll be up as soon as he gets here."

I patched into Nightwing's comm. link and said, "Hey, boy blunder, change of plans, head to GCPD first."

"Ah yes, the Bat-Beeper. Wish they could put a ring tone on it… or at least vibrate."

Since those heading to Arkham were in no need of observation, I chose to talk to Dick as he made his way to the roof of Gotham City Police Headquarters. "How come I have to meet with her by myself? What if she starts yelling at me?"

I laughed softly before answering, "First of all, you should be used to people yelling at you by now. Second, she has been the very definition of pleasant for almost a year now."

"So I better not fudge it up, hunh?"

"You are wise beyond your years, love."

^V^

I had contacted Batman on my way to Arkham and we agreed to meet up together on southwest corner rooftop before breaking in. Despite our speedy arrival, there were already several police units in place within the gated institution. I scanned the faces in uniforms and trench coats but no sign of the commissioner.

Huntress was waiting for us, talking over the link to Oracle no doubt. I waited quietly before she acknowledged us, "So far all inmates are accounted for."

Batman growled, "So far."

After unlocking and cutting away at an air vent that had been welded on, we snuck into the ventilation ducts and proceeded towards the maximum-security wing where the electricity had failed. Nightwing had once told be about a time when Batman… Bruce had been briefly held captive in Arkham Asylum as part of an investigation into killings that resembled Zsasz. The ploy had been that Batman had killed a detective, unintentionally, for joking about the case.

While at Arkham, he endured the very same horrific treatments the other inmates faced, which turned out to be worth it as the hash-marked killer had been escaping the Asylum every night in search of fresh blood. And while Batman had been lurking through the Asylum one night in the air ducts, Nightwing had bumped into him, on his way to free his mentor.

After telling me his story, he had admitted, "Almost had to change my tights."

With the use of the infrared lenses, we moved quickly through narrow vents, making only a few memorized turns to reach our destination. Batman motioned for Huntress to search the minimum-security wings seeing how attention had been diverted away from them. As he and I continued towards the darkened wing, sounds from the cells crept up, echoing eerily.

The very distinct voice of Pamela Isley, "They'd better turn the lights back on…"

Two-Face, "Shut up… we're trying to sleep."

Edward Nygma, "Oh, come on, Harv, it's only two in the morning."

I had always wondered what it would be like to spend a night Arkham. But as we finally made it to the security office, I felt I could live out my years without finding out.

We listened to one of the older guards, "All right, Parker and O'Connell, do a hall check. I want to make sure every door is secure. I want them re-checked every ten minutes until this crap is figured out. Has Dr. Fields gotten here yet?"

"No, he's on his way," a young sounding guard responded.

"I want him ushered down here the second he gets here, he needs to do constant vital checks on that clown."

Batman glanced back at me, his eyes slightly widening. No electricity, no recording devices, no electronically controlled pumps making sure the Joker stayed sleeping. "I'm going to check on the Joker. I want you to do a hall check after these guys finish."

"Done," I replied before turning back towards the way we had just come. I felt a large, gloved hand on my shoulder and when I looked back, "Be careful."

I backtracked and took a left in order to reach the far end of the maximum-security wing. While I waited for the two guards to go through and check the doors, I asked Oracle to send me a current cell chart. Of the two dozen cells, twenty were occupied, each slightly modified given the particular abilities of each captive. Victor Fries had a temperature maintained cell, making sure he was comfortable in sub-zero temperatures. Isley had specially filtered air vents making sure her pheromones didn't leave her cell. Waylon Jones had an in ground water bath.

The others had basic cells with a narrow sleeping cot, steel sink and toilet and other furnishings deemed possible based on their behavior. Harvey Dent had a desk, typewriter and a chair, as I recalled.

"Current list is on your port comp," her voice answered.

I tapped my lips together twice in acknowledgement and then proceeded to check the cells from up above. I was just checking over Jervis Tetch as he played solitaire with oversized paper cards when I heard Huntress, "Harley Quinn is supposed to be in a cell in the regular ward, right?"

Batman whispered, "Correct."

"Then I'm wagering a guess she's the reason for this power outage… she's missing."

Batman growled for her to search the building on foot rather than from the vents. He then told me to stay in the maximum ward to make sure she didn't show up there. When I asked him in Morse code where he was, he answered, "I'm almost to the medical ward… Keep me posted."

Another two clicks.

"Commissioner's on her way…" Oracle said to all of us. Huntress informed her about Harley and she replied, "The guards haven't said anything on their end… they don't have a clue do they?"

"Let's keep it…" he paused mid sentence and then sighed, "I found her."

Five minutes later, I stood with Batman just outside the open doorway of the Joker's private room. It was disturbing to see him lying in the gurney, cuffed by the hands and legs despite his lifeless state. His usually chaotic face was far too peaceful for my taste.

Harleen Quinzel sat on the edge of his bed, her small hands embracing one of his. I had only seen her in person wearing her infamous red and black harlequin costume, but seeing her in tan pants and matching smock shirt made her seem almost human.

"Been saving up all summer, puddin', to pay off the maintenance fella. 'Member him, Randy… you always called him Brandy… But I probably should get back, sure they're looking for me… Wish they'd knock me out like you, puddin'… we could dream together…"

Batman stepped forward and when Harley looked over her shoulder at him, her smile faltered as tears rolled down her cheeks, "Long time no see, B-man. Thought you would at least write me…"

"Harley," he said quietly as he stepped closer, pausing mere feet from the bed.

"Looks good doesn't he? Guess it's true what they say about beauty sleep, hunh, Mr. J?" She paused for a long quiet moment, reaching up to brush back a lock of green. "Please, just another minute… I promise I'll go back nice I just… Just another minute."

Nightwing suddenly breezed down the hall and stopped beside me, "The mob is fast approaching with their pitchforks, figured I'd come warn you…" he glanced into the room and something strange happened to his face.

Not a moment later, a dozen guards and orderlies came running down the corridor and amidst the waving flashlights, I spotted the commissioner. I motioned for Batman and when he stepped out of the room, Kelsey told everyone to fall back. After approaching alone, she asked, "She in there?" He nodded and Kelsey paused before asking, "Why aren't you---?"

"She's not going anywhere. And she won't fight going back to her cell."

Kelsey stepped forward looking into the room, "How do you know?"

"Trust me."

After a few minutes, the lights flickered back to life and I looked back into the room. Harley leaned over and kissed the Joker's pale cheek, leaving behind a big red smudge. She then turned the little light off and slipped off of the bed. As she approached, the orderlies tensed and the guards reached for their taser guns.

Harley looked over them briefly, offered a weak smile and a soft, "Sorry …" as if she was coming home after curfew. Biting her lip, she then looked up at Batman and asked, "It's awful late… Care to walk a girl home?"

"Of course," he replied, his voice as soft as he would ever let it be while wearing the cowl. Two orderlies left with them and made their way back towards the place Harley had been calling home for years. There was an extremely violent side to her, but without the driving force of the Joker behind her, she was docile as a mouse.

After the remaining guards dispersed to tour the facility with the recently returned power, Huntress stepped out from seemingly nowhere, "Well, that was easy enough."

Kelsey's eyes narrowed briefly before asking, "And you are…?"

"Huntress," she answered, without an ounce or cordiality in her voice.

The commissioner looked to Nightwing and then to me, "Any other masked faces lurking about Arkham that I should know about…"

With only the charm that a former Boy Wonder could manage, he shrugged, "Well, to be fair it is a Saturday night…"

^V^

With the temperature an even seventy-one degrees, we had shared a family dinner out on the stone terrace behind the manor. Tim and Cass had been the last to arrive with Barbara, Jim and Dick showing up almost a half of an hour early. Although he had fought dining with us, Alfred did finally sit for dessert, a rich and sweet fruit and coconut cake.

Bruce had spoken briefly with Barbara before dinner as we sat on the terrace watching Dick play soccer with Mattie and Nathan, recapping his brief rooftop meeting with Kelsey as well as the rest of the previous night's events. Apparently right after he had announced his presence, she was curious as to why Batman wasn't with him. After assuring her that he as well as the others were on their way, she had said, "Of course he is… Do you need a ride?"

Barbara grinned before sipping her iced tea, "I guess he told her that he had a cab waiting for him down on the street and then leapt off of the building in a free fall."

As dessert was wrapping up, I saw Bruce rise from his chair while glancing at Tim. Luckily Mattie had been too encased with feeding Frank her leftovers from dinner to notice as they walked away from the table and headed inside. I excused myself as well, informing Alfred that the dishes were mine.

Instead of the kitchen, I went straight for the study. After letting the minute hand pass around twice on the grandfather clock, I opened the entrance and silently descended the stairs. At first I heard nothing, then the loud whack of wood on flesh. Bruce rarely sparred with them anymore, but I wasn't about to miss out on such a treat. I managed to steal a hiding spot mere yards from the training area and glared around the stalagmite to see Bruce circling to the left slowly before lunging forward at Tim. He prepared a defensive blow but Bruce moved back to the right and struck him across the chest.

"Um, ow," Tim said before moving to a safer distance.

"The Nyangotam of Ethiopia fought bare-chested so that the welts left by the staff were visible means of keeping score," Bruce replied while taking a step towards his protégé.

Tim nodded before stepping back as well, "Remind me to vacation elsewhere." He then took the staff into one hand, keeping it parallel to his form while getting a running head start. Air bound, he kicked out at Bruce's head before lashing with his staff. There was a fifth of the effort behind the swing then what should have been and Bruce retaliated by blocking the blow before hitting him in the back hard as he landed.

"The janitor responsible for letting Harley out and for the blackout is in custody," Tim said as he spun on his heel.

"Did he say how much she paid him?"

"I read through Kelsey's report this morning, something in the ballpark of five grand and a date to see the next Disney movie," he answered before bring the staff perpendicular to his midsection, keeping it close as he somersaulted towards Bruce. Using the momentum to spring to his feet, Tim hit him twice, once in the abdomen and on the lower back on the back swing.

"Barbara mentioned that Kelsey met Helena," Bruce commented, urging Tim on by lunging at him, hands spread on the bo in order to clash it against his own. He crossed his staff on Bruce's and hit back. Bruce let go just in time and swung the bo behind him, letting the end come into contact with the end of Tim's ribcage.

He grimaced, "Yes, I guess it was fairly tense but Dick managed to smooth things over… I escorted Harley back to her cell," he somersaulted once more, this time swinging the bo staff before rising to his feet, making a loud smack as it came into contact with the backs of Bruce's legs.

As he jumped up to a standing position again, Bruce had his staff ready, practically clothes-lining Tim to the ground. Bruce snapped, "I advise you to stop going easy on me," before striking out, hitting Tim hard enough to leave a bloody welt on his forearm.

Instantly, Tim latched onto Bruce's staff and shoved it back forcibly, pushing it out of Bruce's hand and into his side. He then spun around twice in Bruce's direction, building speed and strength for the next strike. Bruce prepared to block the blow just as Tim planted his feet, aiming the staff directly at his opponent's throat.

I stepped out and snapped, "Boys!"

Both froze, Tim's bo staff halting within inches of my husband's neck. As their eyes found me, both lowered their weapons and fought to maintain their composure. I held out both of my hands and they reluctantly gave them up before heading out of the training area.

Just as they were about to step off of the mats, I leapt towards them swinging slow enough so they could hear me. Bruce grabbed Tim's shoulder, forcing his upper body down as the bo staff swung by. Before they could look back at me, I had the next one already in motion, slamming into Bruce's rear before colliding with Tim's.

Tim let out a brief yelp before scooting out of harm's way. After I let the staffs clatter to the floor, I jogged to catch up with them, grinning as I passed, "Spare the rod..."

When I was almost out of hearing range, Tim sighed, "At least it wasn't the whip."

It wasn't long after we returned to the terrace that everyone was prepared to head home. Nathan was eager to keep Frank in his grasp but Jim promised to bring him back another time to play, which did little to qualm Nathan's tears. Bruce took Nathan into the house as Jim departed with Frank, I could tell he was already dreading Christmas wishes for a dog…

Staying downstairs, Mattie and I helped clean up before Alfred managed to kick us out of the kitchen for good. As we walked down the hall, Mattie did three cartwheels in a row and landed flawlessly in front of the den's wide doorway. I applauded and she bowed gracefully.

"What do you want to do?"

She shrugged, can we watch a movie?" she asked as she skipped into the room, landing on the overstuffed leather couch with a thud. After a minor debate, she settled on the CGI film WALL-E. We had seen in it theatres the previous summer and I had to admit that the little robot that could was awfully sweet.

Mattie leaned against me and I pulled the afghan that had been lying out over her form. As the movie started, I asked her, "So, how do you rate Dad's talk from last night?"

"B-plus."

"Oh?"

"He was really nervous, he should have practiced. That's what Mr. Shear says, if you have to give a speech you need to practice it."

"Good point," I grinned while letting Mattie move to rest her head on my lap.

It wasn't long before she was fast asleep. It was even longer before Bruce walked into the den. As he sat beside me, I asked, "Get lost?"

"Nathan wanted to play blocks. And then racecars. And… Superman."

I leaned against his shoulder, breathing his cologne deep into my lungs, "You are such a pushover."

He smirked briefly before leaning forward, looking over his daughter, "She out?" I nodded and he sighed, "Good, I was afraid she wanted to know more about… you know."

"I know," I kissed his cheek, "You did a good job. You only stammered thirteen times over the word intercourse."

We watched on as the CGI robot absentmindedly ran over a cockroach and panicked, zooming in close to make sure it was okay. As it spring back to life, he made sure it was out of harm's way before continuing on his merry robot way.

Bruce spoke quietly, "I love you."

"Pushover and a sap… If this keeps up I'm leaving your ass."

"Well, you already hit it."

"It was a love tap…" I countered, "And besides, I can't let you boys have all the fun."

We were silent until the end credits rolled. After getting to his feet, Bruce carefully picked Mattie up and followed me to the stairway. I watched from the doorway as he gently tucked her in with the ease of countless nights worth of practice.

After stepping into the master bedroom, I changed into a silk nightshirt hoping to spark Bruce's interest. As I lounged on the bed, watching him change, I couldn't help but smirk at the sight of the narrow bruise that had formed alongside Bruce's ribcage. "Got you good, didn't he?"

Bruce stepped into the bathroom and I spotted his reflection washing his face before opening the glass door of the medicine cabinet. "He was holding back, had to make him angry," he replied a little too methodically.

I rolled over onto my stomach, bobbing my legs on the mattress, "Is that a theory of yours?"

"Proven fact," Bruce called out. His cupped hand went to his mouth and he dry-swallowed his daily aspirin that had been a regimen for who knew how long. He stepped back into the bedroom and paused in order to look at me. There was a bit of hesitation in his features but he finally spoke, "I'll be up in a while."

I rose from the bed and approached him, "You sure?" I leaned in and kissed his cheek before putting my lips to his ear, "If you stay we could… copulate."

He drew back suddenly, growled something to himself and turned for the door.

"Wait, how do you do it? Insert the what into the where?" I called after him.

^V^


	20. What Lies Ahead: XX

Title: What Lies Ahead: XX

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Author's Note: Again, medical information blessedly provided by Dr. Todd

^V^

With the first cup of coffee minutes away from being ready, I returned to the bedroom to ask my husband what he wanted to breakfast. Head still buried beneath the down comforter, Dick's bruised arm surfaced and motioned for me to go away.

Poor baby.

Battling a cold, I had spent very little time behind the scenes of their nocturnal activities for almost a week. While they gallivanted on rooftops, I was going through Puffs Plus by the box. But when I had been febrile and coughing myself hoarse, Dick had little trouble finding time to catch up on work, both by day and night. At first I had been upset with him, saying that I needed him to take care of me. His reasoning had been that he didn't want to become sick as well, taking to sleeping on the couch at night. The third day I was sick, we had been yelling at one another over him going out to lunch instead of coming home to check on me.

As he began to defend his actions, I sneezed, forcing him to pause. He started again, and I sneezed again. After a few false starts, he started to crack a smile shortly before a giggle escaped his lips.

From then on, Dad had been my primary caretaker and I did my best not to yell at Dick.

On the downhill of the cold, I noticed my Dad had taken to coughing as well. We quarantined ourselves to the Clocktower's apartment so as to not spread the cold within our close family. Dick slept over at the townhouse and had even visited a few times wearing a medical mask. Other than that it was father and daughter, sitting on the couch together, sipping juice, passing the tissue box back and forth while watching Frank fetch a slobbery tennis ball.

I finally had kicked the bug but still found myself battling exhaustion. Poor Dad had been a few days behind me and was still hacking in the manner of a sea lion. Although I had managed to convince him to stay over for three days, he had finally returned to his house with Frank, declaring he didn't want to be a bother. That and he knew Dick was more than ready to come home.

Thankfully, I had beaten the big just in time to go along with Selina on her ritual Halloween costume shopping for the kids. After Mattie's triumphant appearance as Superman a few years ago, Bruce dreaded the holiday with a passion. With the wicked eve only two weeks away, Selina was far too tempted to have dress rehearsals for Mattie's Starbucks barista and Nathan's cowboy ensembles.

My first full night back as Oracle, I tinkered with the computer systems that were integrated into my life for so long. I caught up with Cass and Tim and kept Dick company while he performed surveillance on a on-and-off car theft ring. I was just about to call it a night when Bruce signed on from the Cave's computer.

"You look better," he had grumbled.

I had replied, "Thanks. And thanks for the soup." He had dropped by the previous day with lunch for my father and I. He had been quick to leave but I wasn't sure if it was because of the germ-laden air or that Frank was infatuated with the leather tassels of his dress shoes.

"Anytime. How's… Jim?"

"Good, he went home last night, but he's almost through the worst of it. So… Tim said you had a prototype ready?" Bruce had been working on replicating a new body armor system fashioned after the already existing Dragon Skin armor. It utilized silver-dollar sized silicon carbide ceramic plates that overlapped one another like the scales of a reptile. Where regular body armor was apt to shatter after a single hit, the Dragon Skin was able to take a massive amount of direct and even close contact hits without yielding to the bullets.

I found it odd that Bruce had randomly started his work on the body armor after all this time. I recalled him briefly mentioning it years earlier, even before he and Selina had been married. No one had been grievously injured since Cass and Dick had been shot by Hades, thus no definitive incident that would bring about a renewed interest.

Dick reasoned it was because I had found military research files on the very same body armor and Bruce was not going to sit aside while they beat him to the chase. Tim thought that maybe Bruce was just bored while Cassandra had wondered why they needed body armor at all. Selina said that trying to understand the workings of Bruce Wayne's mind was something best left to psychiatric professionals.

Bruce's image nodded on the flat screen, "Yes… It was surprisingly less difficult to assemble the armor plates than I had expected. I have four prototypes ready but... We're going to test it next week."

"What, you have plans this weekend?"

"I'm going to be out of town." And I'm not letting anyone touch my science project, was left silent.

"Oh, weekend getaway?"

"It's for business." If the tone hadn't asked for a change of topic, the look on his face certainly did. We forced conversation back to the armor for a few minutes before he bid me good night.

Once I got a hold of Tim, I told him I was also calling it quits. In my time off, they had managed well enough on their own but I knew Tim was ready to have me back watching over them. The gruffness in his voice disappeared for a moment when he replied, "That's fine. Get some rest."

After logging off and making my way back to the apartment, I was all too eager to take his advice. Unfortunately I hadn't even been able to change into pajamas before I heard the living room window open. I called out from the bedroom, "You need to work on your stealth, darling."

Dick answered with a collapsed thud onto the carpet.

Even having spent a majority of his life with guns being fired at him, Dick rarely suffered any of the string of major injuries one would expect on a nightly basis. Although he had received his fair share of battle wounds, he rarely found himself in situations that would leave him in a condition poorer than he started. Unlike Bruce who had always seemed to have a death wish looming over him…

I moved faster than I had in the previous week in order to reach him before he tried to stand. From a brief look over, there were no major wounds, just a collection of small lacerations, bruises and abrasions. "What happened?" I asked as I put a hand on his shoulder.

He slowly sat up; leaning against the wall as he removed his mask, "Caught a couple of those carjackers trying to lift a Mercedes," he winced before continuing, "I had three of them down before they even knew what was happening… Then somebody hit me in the back of the head with a crowbar… and it went downhill from there really."

Poor baby indeed.

Carefully, Dick made it to his feet as I spoke, "Well, I'll set up shop in the bathroom… Unless you want to go to---."

Dick shook his head carefully, "No, no need to wake Leslie up this late. Or Alfred for that matter."

He followed me down the corridor, making no attempt to remove any other part of his uniform while in motion. Most nights I had to follow him, picking up the various parts of his suit while he rattled on about his night as if I hadn't already known every minute detail. Then again he was probably concussed so perhaps it was a wise decision to just focus on laying one foot down in front of the other.

Three bloodied wash cloths, eleven gauze pads and half of a roll of adhesive bandage later, Dick opted to pass on his late night shower and simply shuffled to bed, murmuring his gratitude.

Thus why he was so cranky when I tried to wake him for breakfast at half past ten.

Returning to the kitchen, I decided to make myself a pepper and onion omelet. I paused while at the refrigerator gathering eggs and vegetables and retrieved the half of a pound of fresh bacon I had picked up the day before. If the aroma of the percolating coffee didn't revive my husband then the crackle of bacon certainly would.

I had just finished chopping vegetables when I heard the front door open. While pausing, I was able to detect the clatter of toenails and my father's voice, "Hush, Frank."

"Hey, going into work today?" I asked before my father passed into the kitchen.

After taking a seat at the small pine table, Dad cleared his throat before replying, "No, actually I was wondering if you would mind watching Frank this morning."

Glancing over my shoulder I asked, "Sure… where are you off to?"

"Oh… I figured I might as well make use of my health plan for a change… I have an appointment at eleven-thirty but I should be back around one or so if you're up to lunch with your old man."

He coughed, the same hoarse hack I myself had managed to conquer. I had hoped that it wouldn't take more than rest and vitamin C to get him through the worst of it, but then again he wasn't one for cough drops or rest for that matter. I moved towards him, doing my best to camouflage my concern with a soft smile, "Of course. Now that we can both eat something aside from chicken noodle."

^V^

"All right Mattie, you're next on the balance beam."

I had been tumbling on the mats with Katarina and a few of the other girls in my gymnastics class when I heard Miss Renee call out my name. Our class as a whole was made up of thirty kids, from nine all the way up to sixteen. Although my class met three times a week, Dad and Mom had agreed that it would be best if I only went twice a week considering my other extracurricular activities. I had already told Mom that I wanted to do gymnastics in place of indoor soccer through the winter but she had yet to talk to Dad.

I even had an argument ready to defend my decision, strongly based on the fact that I was less likely to suffer an asthma attack on the balance beam than on the soccer field.

After skipping over to Miss Renee, she smiled and asked what routine I had been working on. With the four other instructors helping in the class, I figured it was hard for them to keep track of which kid was working on what skill.

"Well, I haven't done anything to mount the beam aside from climbing on… But the routine Miss Judy and I worked on last week had a forward roll, roll into a straddle, swing up, two to one jump with a twist and then a cartwheel dismount."

"Very impressive," Miss Renee said, "Well, if you're ready I would love to see it."

I nodded and turned to the beam. After taking a slow, deep breath, I placed my hands on the balance beam and pushed myself up. Once my feet were in position, one in front of the other, I raised my hands up to be perpendicular to my torso and began. The first move was simple enough, a forward roll landing back into the same form I started from. As smoothly as possible, I began to crouch down, keeping my arms straight out. While tucking my head down, I began to lean forward, allowing my body to roll around until the space between my shoulders came into contact with the beam. In a fraction of a moment, my entire body followed before my feet once more felt the beam.

"Very nice, Mattie, next time, let's see a bit more momentum in the roll."

"Okay," I whispered while moving to the next part of my routine. I performed another forward roll, this time allowing another fraction of a roll to allow myself to straddle the beam. Bending my knees, I brought my legs back until my toes reached the beam. Then I put my hands down in order to help push myself back to my feet in one fluid motion.

Miss Renee didn't say anything, so I continued. Arms still out, I took large, exaggerated steps towards the end of the beam. Nearly a foot from the end, I paused, took a breath and then pushed up and off the beam, using my right foot to help propel me into a left spin to face the direction I had just come from. Landing on my left foot, I didn't hesitate to extend my right leg back while tipping my torso forward.

"Excellent form, Mattie, especially in your landing."

When I began to walk towards the other end of the beam in order to repeat the maneuver, I spotted my parents entering the gymnasium, my brother struggling to get out of my father's arms. I smiled but didn't wave at them as I finished my walk and then did a second two to one jump turn.

"All right, let's see this infamous cartwheel dismount," Miss Renee said from the ground. About half of the time she spoke, it was to tell you what you were doing wrong with a very noticeable growl in her tone. The other half was genuine praise, always with a smile in her voice. A lot of the kids feared their one-on-one sessions with her but I had yet to be growled at.

Putting my arms straight in the air, I raised my left leg out before proceeding to move into the cartwheel. One rotation brought me to nearly the edge of the balance beam and the second brought me directly into my landing on the mat right in front of my instructor. I landed with my feet together and stood firmly with my hands in the air.

"Excellent job, I see you've been practicing."

I let my arms drop and smiled, "Thanks... My parents are here, do you think I can go see them?" I pointed to them as they stood by the doorway, "I want to show them the new tumbles we did today."

"Of course. In fact, whenever you're ready you can leave, I think we'll call class early tonight."

I thanked her again and then bounded over to my parents. Mom grinned, "That was perfect, Mattie."

After planting my feet, I bowed and said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you." I went about fixing my disheveled ponytail before asking, "Do I have to leave now?"

Dad finally let Nathan stand on the ground, "Soon, kitten, we're going out to dinner."

I almost asked if I could stay for a few more minutes but Dad was already comparing the time of his watch to that of the gymnasium's clock. So instead, I replied, "Oh yeah, I forgot. Well, I'll go get my bag then…"

I walked back to my friends with a great deal less enthusiasm then when I had run to my family. Katarina was on one of the trampolines practicing flips while airborne. When she spotted me, she grinned, "Supergirl has nothing on me."

Laughing, I went about putting my sneakers and my jacket on, "Except I bet she bounces when she botches her vault."

Kat stuck her tongue out at me and then allowed her bouncing to come to an end, "You leaving already?"

Glancing at my parents, "Yeah, we're going out to dinner… But call me if you want to see that movie tomorrow night, I'm sure my mom can take us."

Katarina took flight once more, and replied, "Sure thing," as if she wasn't upside down in the air. "Hey, you should ask your dad about trying out for the team at dinner. If he's in public, he can't say no."

I laughed on the outside, but not on the inside. Because of my skills, several of my instructors had asked if I had any interest in trying out for the junior varsity gymnastics team despite the fact that I was three years from being in high school. I knew I had a unique advantage from all of the things that Cassandra and Dick had taught me but I kept it to myself. They each had said that it would be best to tone down my abilities when in public but it was practically impossible once I was on the mats. Mom always said I was a natural athlete, now I wanted to compete as one.

Despite Dad telling me to hurry up when we got home, I took longer than necessary to shower and change for dinner. When I finally came back downstairs, I found everyone in the den waiting for me.

We were going out for the night because Dad was going to be out of town for a few days. Something about a business trip to Metropolis. Over dinner a week earlier, Mom had offered to go with him but Dad had said he'd manage better on his own. I kind of wanted to go, hoping to see where Uncle Clark lived but I decided to keep quiet and work on my asparagus.

Mom also remained silent but she made a face that I couldn't categorize as offended or furious. A bit of both… offurious.

Being a Friday night, and that Dad was leaving, I opted out of getting my homework done and went about playing the field of options. Movie was always a safe choice but it was too easy to fall asleep to. Board games were fun but whenever Dad lost he wanted an instant rematch in order to "find the faults of his strategy". I didn't feel like going swimming and had done plenty of gymnastics for the day. Hopefully, my parents would have better ideas.

I quietly walked through the open door of their bedroom and heard water splashing and my little brother laughing. Following the sound of a nighttime bath, I found my mother kneeling beside their tub helping Nathan push plastic boats around the warm water. Mom looked up at me and asked, "So what do you want to do after he goes to b-e-d?"

Shrugging, I replied, "I don't know."

"Hmm, let's see. We could watch a movie…"

After Mom listed all of the ideas I had already turned down in my head, I said I would find Dad and ask what he wanted to do. After searching the third floor, I decided he must have been in the study, the den or the library.

Although most of my friends had fairly large houses, mine was the greatest by far, even though my family only used a fifth of the rooms. One sleepover I had hosted over the summer, we had re-enacted a live game of Clue using the spacious rooms of the manor.

Piper had done it. With the candlestick. In the observatory.

Finding the library and den empty, I backtracked down the corridor and headed for the study. Sure enough, Dad was at his desk, skimming through some paperwork. As I passed through the doorway, he looked up and smiled at me, "What's up, kitten?"

"Nothing," I answered softly as I approached his desk. He set the papers down and turned in his chair to face me. Without hesitation, I climbed on his lap and looked over his desk, "This for work?"

"Yes, for my trip."

"What are you doing in Metropolis?" I asked, looking at him.

"My company is going to be helping another company, financially… Nothing exciting I promise," he kissed the top of my head.

I nodded, knowing far too well how Dad tried to simplify everything. He rarely talked about work things but when he did, it was so vague that I wondered why he had started to try to explain things in the first place.

He turned his chair back towards the desk, still allowing me to sit on his lap. I sat by while he stacked the papers together before putting them into folders. Once everything had been picked up, he set his chin on my head, "Something wrong?"

I shook my head slightly. The next moment, his fingers were at my sides, tickling the truth out of me. I surrendered a number of times between bouts of giggles and before I knew it, I was lying sideways on his lap, still under attack.

When he finally released me, I sat up, took a breath and asked, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," his eyes were calm but there was a wrinkling of his forehead that I had seen many times before.

The longer I paused, the deeper the wrinkles became. As much as I wanted to ask Dad about joining the gymnastics team, I decided to stop torturing him and instead asked, "Can we make ice cream sundaes?"

^V^

While Master Bruce had always been able to pack a utility belt in order to preserve his life on a nightly basis, he had never been able to successfully pack a suitcase. For his impromptu "business trips" that cloaked his detective work out of the city limits, he was more than capable of seeing to it that Batman's belongings were precisely packed.

But Bruce Wayne suffered, with poor tie and shirt combinations in addition to the staple, a forgotten toothbrush.

Eventually, he used his highly tuned deductive reasoning skills and concluded that it would be best for me prepare his belongings for his falsely represented trips just as I did for his legitimate travel as Bruce Wayne. World's Greatest Detective and all.

It wasn't until he had wed Ms. Selina that I found Master Bruce once more desiring to take charge of such menial tasks. I was no longer allowed to prepare his outfits nor was I accountable for preparing for brief trips out of town. I had expected it to wear off eventually but he had held fast to his adult-like responsibility. Luckily where I was no longer able to perform my duties, Ms. Selina stepped in to make sure Master Bruce did not leave the house wearing black slacks and brown socks.

On one of the first of our many afternoon teas during Master Bruce's recovery from amnesia, Ms. Selina had inquired as to what it was like raising Master Bruce. I did my best to only focus on the more humorous adventures in child rearing as opposed to the horrific night terrors I had woken to on a nightly basis for years. After recounting about Master Bruce's first lesson with a straight razor, she had asked, "So when did you let him dress himself?"

Without hesitation, I had started, "Madam, I would rather he select his own attire in his current state---," before I caught myself.

She had laughed loudly, no doubt at the slight coloring that came across my cheeks in addition to my frank admittance. Nevertheless, it was a sound that had been fairly absent in the Manor during that difficult year.

With Master Bruce and Miss Mattie downstairs, I had taken the liberty in assisting Ms. Selina with Master Bruce's belongings for his weekend away to Metropolis. As ordered by him, I had not informed Mr. Kent of his arrival. However his strict orders had never phased his wife, and she had already chatted with a certain investigative reporter at least twice.

While searching amongst his forest of tailored suits, I heard Ms. Selina's voice, "Hey Alfred…" She had been packing Master Bruce's toiletries in the master bathroom.

With a bounty of Armani laid over my arm, I emerged, "Yes, madam?"

She stood at the bathroom counter, inspecting two orange prescription bottles. I felt my breath catch momentarily as she turned to face me, holding out the bottles, "Did you know about these?"

After laying the suits flat on the bed, I approached her and examined the bottles. Both bore labels printed from the Mercy General pharmacy but had no information pertaining to the patient. There was, however, information about the medication enclosed as well as the dosages.

The first contained ten milligram pink tablets and was labeled: **Maxalt [Rizatriptan] **– _Take 1 tablet at onset of symptoms. Second dose may be taken after two hours. Take with 8 oz. of water_. The second bottle was half-filled with seventy-five milligram flat orange tablets, which belonged to the label that read: **Elavil [Amitriptyline] **– _1 tablet per day. Take with 8 oz. of water._

Finally I managed to respond, "No, madam, I assure you."

With her lower lip held hostage by her incisors, she turned the bottles over in her hands, scrutinizing the pills that had been kept in secret. "What are they?"

I paused, my mind still searching what little I knew of pharmacology to try and place the medications. Finally, I formed a reply, "Rizatriptan, I believe, is a substance used to widen the blood vessels… and the Amitriptyline … is an anti-depressant." I gave the bottles back to her and spoke, "Perhaps it is stronger medication, for---."

Her voice was low with anger, "It's not the point that he needed something stronger than Advil, Alfred." Before I could defend my master, she asked, "Where is he?"

There was no need to hesitate for whether I answered or not, she would be on her way to find him. "The study, I believe."

She pocketed the bottles in her jeans and stormed out of the room. Most women would have teared up, more so over the fact that their loved one was suffering in secrecy. But Ms. Selina was not like most women. She would see to it that a metric ton of pills wouldn't be able to ease her loved one's suffering for keeping secrets.

I followed her into the corridor, with no hope of keeping up with her fast paced strides. However, where she chose to take some of her aggravation out on the three levels of stairs, I selected to use the elevator. As a result, we managed to arrive at the study at nearly the exact moment.

Master Bruce was at his desk, his young daughter on his lap helping him arrange papers. The ferocity that had been on Ms. Selina's face moments earlier had been replaced with a soft smile, "Hey, kiddo, did you think of something to do?"

"Ice cream sundaes," Miss Mattie answered while grinning in our direction.

With his daughter's attention diverted, Master Bruce nodded slowly, no doubt all too aware at his wife's disguised discontent. He suggested, "Why don't you and Alfred get things ready, Mom and I will be over in a bit."

Miss Mattie showed the slightest hesitation before hopping off of his lap, "Okay."

Well out of earshot, I led the way to the kitchen and asked, "Well, shall we have hot fudge or caramel sundaes?"

"Doesn't matter," a soft reply came.

I looked over my shoulder to see her making her way to a stool at the island counter. Glancing over her sullen form, it was difficult to imagine the grin that had been on her face not a minute earlier. "Is there something amiss?"

Her slender shoulders rose and fell slightly but she offered no verbal reply as she concentrated on a glass bowl of plums sitting in front of her.

After clearing my throat, her eyes rose to meet mine, "Young lady, I am afraid I can not prepare a sundae without your assistance. And your enthusiasm."

The corner of her lip pulled up, "Okay."

She remained silent as she helped crushed macadamia nuts with a rolling pin on the cutting board. There was a slight sigh as she measured ingredients to make whipped cream. Finally, as she stirred chocolate in the double boiler, she asked, "Are they fighting?"

In her brief years of life, I had done my best to be as honest with her as I had been with the other members of our extended family. But there was something in her eyes that made even stretching the truth impossible.

"I believe they are having an argument, yes."

"About what?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

The sundaes we had prepared for four only fed two. After placing the remaining dishes in the freezer, I offered to take Miss Mattie up in the elevator. She rarely rode in it and I knew it was secret pleasure of hers. As we rose the levels of the house, I spoke, "Second floor. Men's wear, appliances, novelty gifts. Third floor, women's shoes, electronics, little brothers."

The young girl could barely contain her laughter as she stepped out into the hallway.

Returning to the kitchen, I tidied up before making one last tour of the ground floor, leaving the study for last. I had expected to find it in a state of disarray but was surprised to see not a scrap of destroyed furniture nor smear of blood. Upon finalizing my tour by passing through the kitchen doorway, I was in fact surprised to see Ms. Selina sitting on the very stool her daughter had occupied. She had one of the ice cream sundaes before her, showing little change from when Miss Mattie had assembled it.

"Is it safe to assume that Master Bruce was not in a condition to enjoy his dessert."

She offered a weak smile before plucking the cherry from the mountain of whipped cream, "Oh… he's packing the rest of his belongings himself. Probably afraid of what else I'll come across."

Without any verbal prompting, she continued, "He said he didn't want to bother me with it… That it wasn't that bad. I then threatened to call Leslie… he grunted and decided he could bother me with it now." After twirling her spoon in the melting sundae, she sighed, "They're cluster headaches… next step up from migraines."

Ms. Selina took to stirring the contents of the glass faster, "I knew he was waking up in the middle of the night but I thought it was because he was just being himself, not that his brain was imploding… I don't know who to be angrier with, Bruce for keeping it from me or… myself for not asking him if everything was all right."

I spoke quietly, "Perhaps the blame is best shared on two sets of shoulders, madam."

There was no reply until the contents of the sundae dish were a uniform light brown, "Perhaps… Can you do me a favor Alfred?"

"But of course," I spoke.

"I don't want to put you in an awkward position but… do you think you could ask Leslie about this… I just want to make sure that…"

"Consider it done, madam."

Ms. Selina rose to her feet and retrieved the intact dessert from the freezer. As I reached for the one she had destroyed, she grinned, "Oh, no. That one's still for Bruce."

^V^

"Let's pretend I laced your ice cream with sodium pentothal…"

"Of which you didn't---."

"Shut up. And it's already been digested…"

"It's only reliable when given intravenously---."

"Shut up. And it's lowering your inhibitions so that you can only tell the truth…"

"Actually I've dosed myself before, it's difficult but still feasible to lie---."

"Shut up."

"… Yes dear."

I had just finished packing my suitcase when she had passed into the room with two ice cream sundaes, no doubt lovingly prepared by our daughter. Instead of resuming the argument from downstairs, she approached me and offered what appeared to be chocolate ice cream soup.

"Peace offering?" I had asked taking the proffered glass.

"Arsenic free, I promise."

We ate in silence on the bed. As I set my empty glass down on the table, Selina asked, "When do you want to leave for the airport?"

"Alfred can take me…"

"Bruce."

"Eight," I replied as I reclined back onto the pillows.

"Whatever will you do with yourself for four days in Metropolis… all alone."

I had glanced over at her as she licked her spoon clean of chocolate, "You called Lois didn't you?"

Her first true smile of the evening had spread across her lips, "Maybe." Before I could reply, she continued, "It's not like your name wasn't going to be in the news anyway… and besides one of us has to be the responsible grown-up…" Something had changed in her voice as she added, "Sorry."

Shaking my head, "Don't be."

There had been a brief pause before she stepped off of the bed and headed towards the bathroom. Running water sounded and I lifted my head from the pillows just as Selina's shirt flew out the open doorway. I rose to investigate, entering the bathroom just as she was settling into the half-filled tub.

Ten minutes later, slightly pruned, Selina's back was laying against my chest while she was setting up her hypothetical truth serum scenario.

She took my left arm into her hand and set it on her abdomen, putting slight pressure at my wrist with her pointer and middle fingers. After I asked what she was doing she shushed me, "I'm taking a normal reading of your pulse for my interrogation."

"Ah," I replied.

When thirty seconds had lapsed, she asked her first question, "How long have you been taking the medication?"

"A month." Manicured nails of her free hand dug rivets into the flesh of my thigh. I corrected myself, "Two months."

She inhaled slowly, "How long have you been having these headaches?"

Not wanting blood to be drawn, I answered truthfully, "Since July."

"You went two months before you saw Leslie?"

"Yes."

Fingers still planted on my wrist, Selina continued, "What… What is it like?"

There were no words that would be able to express the severity of the cluster headaches so I decided to describe the symptoms that proceeded the actual attack, "It happens in a cycle, at first it came every three or four hours now it's usually every eight hours or so. Sometimes the cycle only lasts a few days, sometimes it recurs over a week. It starts with… one eye watering, sometimes the lid droops slightly… forehead feels warm… skin will flush to one side… then pressure builds up on the side of my face, moving from my neck up to my eye."

"How long has it been since the last cycle?"

"Twenty two days."

Another minute passed before she asked, "Which side?"

"Hmm?"

"Which side of your face?"

I answered, even though she already knew what I was going to say, "My left."

She released her hold of my wrist and entwined her fingers with mine. There was a long pause before she continued, "So does… the medication help?"

I nodded, "Definitely."

Selina's fingers squeezed mine tightly, "Is it the bullet?"

"It's possible. Leslie thinks that there is scar tissue that may be pinching the nerves but she'd much rather treat the headaches then risk brain surgery to remove the bullet and the scar tissue."

"There's nothing else that can be done?"

"Neurectomy is the final option, severing the nerves that sense pain in the face and eye of the afflicted side. There's also a new radiation treatment, which disrupts the pain signals from the trigeminal nerve…" I felt her back shudder and continued, "But I don't plan on having---."

She rose from the tub suddenly and stepped out while latching onto the towel she had laid out on the counter. I called out after her as while I got to my feet but she ignored me while making her way into the bedroom.

"Selina wait," I called out again, neglecting my robe as I followed after her. When I reached out to touch her arm, she spun around, slapping the right side of my face hard. My cheek burning, I reached out again, making contact with her upper arm before she reacted.

This time instead of slapping me, she stared at me, her usually clear eyes clouded with anger and frustration, "You promised me…"

"I didn't intend on keeping this from you, I wanted to make sure it was under control before I---."

She shook her head as she interrupted, "Of course. Please spare the doting wife of worry."

Five years earlier, I would have growled something and stormed off to spend the remainder of the night in the Cave.

Five years earlier, I wouldn't have even been home for the fight to begin with…

After I put my other hand on her shoulder, I tried to formulate the best way to apologize for once more sheltering her from a part of my life. We had spent the last ten years at each other's sides. My recovery from amnesia, the trials of returning to my life as Batman as well as leaving it behind, having our children, committing ourselves to one another…

I existed because of her. For her. With her.

"Bruce…" her voice interrupted my thoughts, "Your face…"

I reached up and touched the warm patch of skin in the shape of her hand on my right cheek, "It's all right. Love tap, right?"

"No, Bruce," her slender fingers rose and touched the left side of my face.

Returning to the bathroom, it took only one glance in the mirror to recognize what she had been talking about. A majority of the left side of my face was flushed and my left eye appeared glassy and bloodshot. When Selina's reflection joined mine, I felt the slightest twinge of pain in my neck.

^V^

Normally I warmed up in the training room of the Clocktower, but I felt that my cabin fever ridden wife was in need of some Richard John Grayson certified entertainment.

As she picked up after dinner, I offered to help, practicing my hand-eye coordination by juggling dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. From there, she folded laundry in the living room while I did sets of pushups, crunches and shadow boxing. As she proceeded to the bedroom, I started into a series of back flips down the hall. As I prepared a dramatic hands free flip, I heard the distinct whistle of an escrima stick being lashed out, followed by a whack as the weapon collided with flesh.

"Ow!" I tumbled to the hardwood floor, "I think I'm bleeding," I complained as I examined my upper arm.

"You have a training room for a reason. To train in," she sighed.

"But I wanted to spend time with you," I found myself pulling up the old stand by excuse for whenever I was in trouble.

She, having been on the receiving end of said standby excuse, rolled her eyes and told me I should have seen the stick coming.

Walking back to the training room, I couldn't help but snicker, "That's what she said."

"I heard that!" she called from the bedroom.

While I dutifully completed my warm-up on in the designated area, I was interrupted by the soft found of bare feet on Nomex coated mats. Ducking just in time, Tim missed his target and swung his leg through the air instead of through my torso.

"Figured I haven't beat you up in like a week," Tim smirked as he tumbled towards me both of his strong arms reaching to wrap around my unprotected throat.

I jabbed his left kidney sharply twice before I replied, "Ah, good to know you still care."

We sparred for the better part of thirty minutes before deciding we were tuned enough to take on the foes that lurked Gotham's streets. We walked together into the kitchen and I tossed him a bottle of water from the fridge before grabbing one for myself.

"Any news on the god child?" Tim asked as he hopped up to sit on the tiled countertop.

"Actually Trey called last week. It's a bouncing boy. I really hope he's born on my birthday, how awesome would that be?"

"Awesome," he agreed, his voice thick with sarcasm.

I drained a third of my water bottle, "There's nothing wrong with living vicariously through other parents. Why do you think I'm all about Mattie and Nathan? Not just because they're my siblings, but because I can rile them up and send them packing back to Bruce and Selina..." I spotted Tim rolling his eyes, "You just wait. Some day you'll be yearning for the pitter-patter of bat babies."

He choked as he sipped his water, "That's not even funny."

I grinned.

He glared.

"So, big plans for tonight?" I asked.

"Why do you ask?" he countered before taking a long swallow.

I uncapped my own bottle and took a drag, "You have the uber tense look about you. It doesn't flatter your eyes, nor your cheekbones."

Tim smirked, "You need to stop watching E!… Actually, I plan on dropping in on the DA. I ran into Kelsey the other night and she said he wanted to speak with me."

I opened the fridge again and grabbed a plate of left over steak skewers that Barbara had prepared a few hours earlier. After playing the good host and offering one to Tim, I replied, "Probably wants to invite you to a Halloween party…. At least you already have a costume."

"Funny. No, I bet he has a few questions about Icarus. The hired flunkies have all been sentenced, all opted for the guilty pleas in order for reduced sentences… but not a single word to pin Icarus."

After macerating a piece of marinated steak with my molars, I said, "Good old Iccy, holding strong to his not guilty plea. The guy was caught, literally red-handed, and he has the stones to plead not guilty."

Tim popped a charred green pepper into his mouth, "Yeah… unfortunately the goons didn't really have much aside from the dates, times and places that convicted themselves. None of them knew who was funding the operations to begin with because it certainly wasn't Icarus."

"If only Matches Malone was still among the living," I smirked, "What a testimony that would be… I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth… now can I get a bee-yah?" I did my best to forge Bruce's mastered New Jersey dialect. Tim snickered quietly and I continued, "You know his body was never recovered…"

It took a moment before Tim asked, "Are you serious? There's no way Bruce would sit on the stand in a checkered suit… Besides the goons all vouched that Matches went back into the building and didn't make it out before the explosion… He's dead."

I was about to ask if he wanted me to go with him to meet Bryce but Barbara entered the kitchen, "Oh, my growing boys… Hey, don't eat all of that, my dad's dropping by around nine."

"He is?" I remarked. Her left brow rose slightly, quietly informing me that she had already told me at some point in the evening. I covered with, "Oh, that's right… Tim must have given me a concussion with that roundhouse a few minutes ago."

She rolled her eyes and diverted her attention towards our guest, "Did you need anything before meeting with Bryce?"

Tim shrugged, "It's not going to be much of a visit, I'm afraid. I submitted the evidence we had already… if he doesn't have a solid enough case yet I may have to give him our video surveillance of that night."

"Batman on the big screen, eh?"

Ten minutes earlier, Tim had been holding my face down in the mats laughing, "Say uncle!" But at that moment, there was something dark that crossed his face, becoming even more evident when he spoke, "If necessary, yes."

Chat was short after that and he left to return to Bryanttown to suit up for the night. Not wanting to be rude, I opted on heading out a bit later, after Jim dropped by for a visit. That and I could never seem to pass up a good game of Killer Attack Puppy with Frank. To pass the time while we waited, Barbara and I decided to settle on the couch together to take in some blessedly simple reality television.

The first commercial of the hour had not even started when there was a knock at the door. I rose to get it, "Don't change the channel, Barbara Louise."

"Would never dream of it, Richard John," she called back.

I put on a soft smile as I pulled the door back, "Thought you weren't coming until nine…"

Instead of James Gordon, Selina Kyle stood at our door, dressed in a steel gray wool coat and dark fitted jeans. Her face quickly changed from sullen to a smile as she spoke, "Expecting someone else?"

After letting her in, I told her about our expected visitor while I took her coat. Following her down the hallway, I asked, "What's up?"

Most likely as to not have to explain herself twice, Selina waited until we reached the den, "Oh, I took Bruce to the airport, he's on a Metropolis-bound Wayne Gulfstream. Now I just have to remember to pick him up Tuesday afternoon…"

Barbara sat up and lowered the volume of the television, "Why didn't you go with him?"

"I offered. He declined. But I arranged a dinner date for him with Clark and Lois tomorrow night so he's not entirely off of the hook," she answered while taking a seat in one of the leather recliners.

I returned to the couch and said, "So I hear Mattie is kicking rich kid arse in gymnastics."

Selina smiled, "But of course. Not fair that she had a head start from her big brother, I suppose. Actually, one of her instructors wants her to try out for the junior varsity team at the high school. When she started, she was hoping just to make the modified team. I almost told Bruce about it tonight but… I figured he didn't need to be worrying about high school meets with boys oogling his daughter in tights."

Laughing, I managed, "He'll definitely stroke out. Please, make sure the will is up to date before you tell him."

"I do have some free time this weekend…" she smirked, "But I told her it is entirely her decision, not mine, not her father's, not her coach's…. she told me, 'I don't even want to play soccer anymore, so you know it's for real, Mom.'."

Barbara replied, "Well, you know it's for real when it's for real."

The Clocktower's third visitor of the night arrived just as Barbara and Selina began what I titled Wife Talk. Tuning them out, I engrossed myself in an episode of America's Next Top Model and leapt at the opportunity to answer the door.

Unlike Selina, who had instantly smiled when I opened the door, Jim's face remained stoic.

Unlike Selina, this was not a social call.

^V^

Fighting back a yawn, I set the windshield wipers on medium to slick away the autumn drizzle that had been falling from the sky for nearly three days.

In Metropolis, the weather had been much worse with a band of severe thunderstorms grounding the Waynejet II until Wednesday evening. And after four days in the city, and four days of his latest cluster headache cycle, Bruce was more than ready to come home and never leave again. When the storm finally made its way out of the area, the airport gave clearance to flights and he saw to it that the Gulfstream was one of the first aircrafts to make it to the runway.

With their father gone for the weekend, I had planned a daylong adventure at the Preserve for the kids but the weather had them pouting around the manor Saturday morning rather than romping around with the new Bengal cubs. I still managed to keep our time together somewhat entertaining with a trip to an indoor youth recreation center forty minutes north of Gotham. I had even convinced Dick and Barbara to accompany us for the outing.

While Barbara and I watched on, Mattie and Dick raced up the rock-climbing wall three times. Dick was holding back significantly, always making it a close finish with him reaching the top mere feet before his younger sister.

When Mattie went off to investigate the art center, I joined Nathan in the bubble making area and we tried to engulf Dick in the Mighty Bubble Machine. I lifted Nathan as he pushed up on the lever, the bubble rising to Dick's midsection before popping. On the eighth try, we were victorious.

Opting out of the youth center's greasy cafeteria, we returned to Bristol and settled for a late lunch at a small deli. Famished from his day out, Nathan was quick to eat his entire club sandwich and even quicker to fall asleep in the booth beside me. I had helped him lay down with his head in my lap before asking Mattie to head over to the dessert counter to see if any of the pies looked tasty.

Adults only present, adult talk commenced.

I was still having a hard time believing the words Jim Gordon had said that night in the Clocktower. When he had entered the den with Dick at his side, I felt a chill run down my spine just from the look on his face.

He swore us to secrecy, wanting to tell everyone individually.

Especially Bruce.

The weekend moved by far too quickly and as Monday dawned, so did the rain. Mattie had joked that afternoon that it was a good thing she chose to only do gymnastics that fall or else she'd be outside doing soccer drills in the rain. By Tuesday, I, as well as the children, were excited for Bruce's return home. When he called a little after five that evening, I pictured him in the jet, watching the minutes tick away as he sped back to Gotham.

He had greeted me with a growl, "I hate this city."

"Really, I don't think you've ever said that before," I had kidded with him. "So what time are you getting in?"

"Tomorrow."

"What?" After he explained the airport grounding all commercial and private flights, I growled, "I hate that city."

He checked in again Wednesday morning, confirming he would indeed be arriving in Gotham a little after eleven that night. Well past the underage bedtime of Wayne Manor. And as much as my children pleaded to accompany me to the airport, I feared the consequence of getting them ready the next morning would not outweigh the look on their faces seeing Bruce step off of the jet.

Then again, if I slept in, Bruce would have to get them ready…

Since his latest cluster headache cycle began just as he had departed for Metropolis, I was once more absent as he managed and suffered through each attack. For months he had done so on his own and I knew he intended to continue to do the same.

I, however, had intentions of my own.

When he had arrived in Metropolis, he had called to check in with me, sounding absolutely drained. No doubt spending the first headache of the cycle in a pressurized cabin had been a gruesome experience. After chatting for a few minutes, he fought to disclose a yawn. I told him to call me if he woke in the middle of the night and he said for me not to worry.

The bedside phone rang promptly at half past two in the morning, six and a half hours after the first headache had commenced. I had been in the foggy realm of a dream and when I answered the phone, I was confused to hear slow, methodical breathing. I was about to hang up on the pervert when I realized it was my pervert.

"Bruce, is everything okay?"

"Please…" he whispered.

"Bruce?"

"Stop yelling."

Clutching his pillow to my body, I talked quietly with him for two hours. To get his mind off of his suffering, I did my best to remain collected while recounting our insane adventures, in and out of masks. Sometimes he would comment softly to correct inaccuracies in my story telling but mostly he focused on breathing in and breathing out.

Eventually, his breathing turned to snoring.

From then on, every six to eight hours, I heard the phone ring, causing my heart to skip a beat. Luckily, it timed out that three of the nights, Bruce was fine when he called to talk with the kids before bed. However, Monday he had called a little before dinner, no doubt already preparing for another attack.

When Mattie asked why he had called so early he had told her that he was meeting Clark and Lois for a late dinner. She had handed the phone to me after telling Bruce good night, "He doesn't sound good… I think he's homesick."

Homesick. If symptoms included death by temporal lobe implosion.

I pulled up into the pick up/drop off lane of the Gotham International Airport and reached for my cell. If Bruce had been tangled up with a delay I would have to park elsewhere and venture in under the protection of my umbrella. As I dialed his number, I glanced at the automatic glass doors, trying to make out faces in the rain.

He answered on the third ring, "I'll be right out," before hanging up.

"Rowr," I said while putting my cell back in my purse.

He was right out, not a minute later. Sans umbrella, he flipped the collar up on his coat and quickly dashed from the awning to the car. After leaning over, I opened his door for him, "Where to, sir?"

"Funny," he commented before throwing his dress bag and carry-on suitcase into the back seat, leaving his briefcase at his feet.

I was about to put the car into gear when he leaned over and kissed me. When he pulled back, I said, "Easy there, stud, we have all night… unless you have a headache."

He didn't grunt as I had expected but out of the corner of my eye I saw a fraction of a smirk come across his lips. Although he had left Gotham on bad terms, I saw to it that he would be able to return to open arms.

Alfred had pointed out that Bruce had spent his entire life protecting people from bad things, mainly the citizens of Gotham from criminals. He then pointed out that with his main drive no longer present in his life, he would continue to do so but perhaps on a smaller and far more personal scale.

And that perhaps it wasn't a bad thing.

After all, someone needed to protect his daughter from teenaged boys and his son from the Tickle Monster.

^V^


	21. What Lies Ahead: XXI

Title: What Lies Ahead: XXI

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: Happy New Year's!

Author's Note:

^V^

As fluffy snow made its way from the heavens to the streets of Gotham, I was loading Holiday Skip a Payment coupons into the billing records of DJG Security. Although I still wasn't officially working for them, I had been helping out much more around the office. However, with Mattie and Nathan home for winter vacation I had managed to sneak a few days "off" in order to go up and baby-sit.

As much as Alfred adored the children I knew how hard it was to keep up with them, even for me.

"Cass?" I heard Tim before he passed through my makeshift office, "We're going to go to Mason's for lunch, leaving in like ten minutes."

Looking up from the stack of red and green coupons, I was shocked to see it was already a quarter passed noon. I had come in with Tim at nine and had been buried in menial tasks ever since. Dick had dropped in at some point in the morning and had asked if I could send some faxes out for him. He had promptly left my office, doubled over and coughing after I had hit him in the solar plexus with my three-hole punch.

"Sure," I smiled and finished editing one last bill before setting aside my work and following him into the main area of the office. Dick was sitting in one of the waiting area chairs, trying to wipe something off of his blue silk tie.

We approached just as Will commented, "You are cut off from the egg nog my friend."

Dick smirked, "Hey now, I have some dignity. Just because it's New Year's eve doesn't mean I get wasted before noon… Now before six however…"

Smirking, I was about to say that a drunk Dick would be no different from a sober Dick but Tim approached, holding my coat out for me. As I slipped into it, I suddenly realized that there were two faces missing: Jim and Frank.

Just as I opened my mouth to ask about them, Dick seemingly read my mind, "He's covering the site visit at the car museum and then I think he's heading over to check things out at Pyramid Plaza. Guess he'd rather work out of the office today rather than deal with our holiday spirit."

We made our way to the elevator bay and stood cramped in the car with two other patrons. Dick started humming and I gently elbowed the area of his torso I had pummeled earlier that morning.

The remaining ride was silent.

Despite the snow and hovering temperature of twenty-five degrees, we chose to walk the six blocks to Mason's Deli as opposed to doing battle for a taxicab amidst the midday rush. We walked in pairs, Dick with Will and Tim beside me, slowly navigating our way through the fairly crowded streets. I felt warm, gloved fingers entwine with mine and smiled as I squeezed them.

Although Tim was never one to display affection in public, I had noticed that in the last six months he had increasingly grown more comfortable in expressing himself. It had started when Bruce had held a pool party that summer for Mattie and her friends as well as for our small and twisted family. I had been lounging on a chair, absorbing the late June sun alongside Barbara when I had felt two muscular arms lift me. A moment later, cool chlorine water enveloped me. Tim had jumped in after me and I couldn't help but to think back when we had first started out awkward courtship. It had started with him dragging me into the pool and had ended with me leaving him behind in the pool, sans trunks. The good old days.

With the prying eyes of pre-teens and family members alike, I knew I couldn't get revenge in a similar fashion. Before I could come up with a PG rated retaliation, he had already swam up next to me, kissing me softly on the lips.

A few months later, we had been volunteered to chaperone Mattie's school Halloween dance so that Bruce and Selina could attend a charity masquerade. I had never been present at a school dance and Tim had seen to it that I had a complete experience. He bought me an orange soda and a bag of Buncha Crunch from the refreshment table and then treated me to a quick instruction as to how to perform the "Carlton Dance" for when the remix of some Missy Elliot song came on.

And finally, a slow dance.

But it was Thanksgiving that I decided he must have been losing his grasp on containing his affection for me. Before the feast commenced, we had arranged ourselves in the den, chatting and sampling hors d'oeuvres. For years there were exactly enough seats for everyone but a new guest's presence made for one less. Dick had invited Will after finding out that his ex-wife was taking his girls to Maryland to visit with relatives for the holidays. I was just about to sit on the floor with Nathan as he counted stripes on Taffy's back when Tim had patted his thigh.

In front of everyone, I sat on his lap with his arms around my waist, his fingers gently stroking my side

In front of everyone.

In front of Bruce.

I had always been comfortable around Tim, even light years before I had even the slightest thought that we would ever be more than just friends. Unfortunately, Tim had always wanted to maintain his composure, especially around Bruce. We had been together as Batgirl and Robin and as Batgirl and Batman and still he held everything in.

My curiosity finally taking control, I had confronted him about it on the ride back into the city after Thanksgiving dinner. He had driven six miles before finally responding, "Cass… I look back on how much time we've spent together and all I can see is time I've wasted trying to be someone I'm not. I mean… Bruce hides everything from the world and I can only imagine what hellish feuds he and Selina have as a result of that. I don't want that for us. I don't want to hide anything from you."

I had leaned over and kissed his cheek, "I love you, too."

Dick suddenly glanced over his shoulders, "Come on, love birds, step it up, I'm starving."

"Not from the look of your backside," Tim snickered.

Dick shot another look back, "Hey, I have a firm, toned buttocks. At least I better after sinking all that money into that new Bo-Flex home gym."

Will joined the bantering, "I'd smack it to settle this debate but… I don't think I like him like that."

After releasing Tim's hand, I darted the mere feet between us and slapped Dick's rear hard enough to make a small pony kick out. He stumbled forward, bumped into a very disgruntled man on a cell phone and then spun around to face me.

I shrugged, "I don't like you like that. And you should get your money back."

We were still laughing as we passed through double glass doors of Mason's. Despite its amazing menu and perfect location in the business district, there were three tables open. We snagged a big corner booth in the back and went about eyeing the daily specials. It didn't take long for me to settle on the Roast beef panini sandwich and I tapped my foot on Tim's shin until the others decided.

With the best short-term memory, Tim took our orders up to the counter. I was about to ask how much more work we had left for the afternoon when Dick asked Will, "So, any plans for tonight?"

"Nothing in stone. The girls are getting dropped off at my place around six so I'll have to limit the pub hopping, I suppose.

Dick nodded, "Well, if you want, we're having a thing up to Bruce's. His daughter is having some friends over and I'm sure she'd love to finally meet your little ladies."

"And the big kids?"

"Completely segregated from the little kids, by a long, plush carpeted corridor."

Will unfolded and refolded his napkin. He had admitted to feeling awkward at Wayne Manor shortly after Thanksgiving. He said he felt completely out of place amidst such luxury. Dick had quelled his worries by explaining, "You know that crystal chandelier by the stairs? I used to swing off of it when I was a kid. After me, anyone fits in."

Truer words were never spoken.

^V^

As I sat in my closet trying to decide what shoes to wear for the New Year's Eve party I heard my father's footsteps coming down the hall. He had been in the gym for the last two hours, of which I had visited every fifteen minutes to see if he was done. Every time I had looked through the doorway, he was performing a different exercise. I once asked Mom why he worked out so much and she had explained that he was a guy and guys often did things for no reason.

On my fourth trek to the gym, he was doing chin-ups off of a bar mounted high on the wall. On the seventh, he had moved on to the punch bag. On the twelfth, I had interrupted him while he was bench-pressing, nearly causing him to drop the weights on his throat after sneaking up on him.

After he had regained control of what looked to be at least a million pounds, he grunted that he would come to my room when he was finished.

When he finally did make it to my bedroom, I somersaulted on the soft carpet out of my closet and used the speed to jump to my feet. I had hoped that Dad would have been impressed as he entered my bedroom but he passed through the door I had already landed on my feet, "What's up, Kitten?"

I cocked my head to the side, letting the loose waves of hair that had fallen from my ponytail to cross my shoulder, just like Mom had taught me to do, "Can I invite someone else to the party?"

"How many friends do you have coming already?"

"Six."

He sighed before asking, "Who else would you like to come?"

"Well, Brianna wasn't supposed to be coming back from vacation until tomorrow but they came home early so she wants to come and if I invite Brianna I have to invite Stacy, Patrick and Adam," I counted off names on my fingers.

He paused, no doubt put off at the two boy names I had uttered, "So you want to invite four more people."

"Please, can I, Daddy?" I then took a step closer to him, looking up at his face as I bit my lip, also just like Mom had said to do.

"As long as their parents say it's okay."

I then leapt at him, wrapping my arms around his waist, "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

He patted my shoulder gently before entangling himself, "You are very welcome, kitten."

As he left I returned to my closet for some more heavy thinking. I didn't dress up very often but hosting what was going to be the best New Year's party in the history of Bristol Elementary had me debating over outfits when I should have been decorating the den. I had narrowed down my selection to three pairs of shoes when I heard Mom's voice from behind me, "The third toughest choice in your life is what shoes to wear."

"What are the first two?"

"What to have for breakfast and what to name your first child," she answered as she sat beside me. When I was little, everyone said I looked just like Dad. But now that I was growing up, I was beginning to realize just how much I looked like Mom. Same hair, same skin tone, even the same face. All that really reminded me of Dad was my eyes.

"So, did it work?"

I grinned, "Yep, they can all come."

"Good, because I already called their parents."

"What if Dad had said no?"

She leaned over and kissed my face, "Since when can he say no to you."

"Or you," I smiled before sitting up and kissing her cheek.

"Of course… And there may be two more guests for your party…"

"Really, who?"

"Will might be coming with his two daughters, Karen and Amanda."

"Cool, now that's twelve… plus me."

"And don't forget Cassandra."

"Right." Mom said I had to have at least one adult present at the party and I was quick to choose Cassandra. I had known her all of my life and she was practically a sister to me even though she was much older. And as much as I loved Dick, older sisters were way more fun than older brothers.

"Well, let's see this ensemble of yours, kiddo."

Mom left and sat on the bed, giving me privacy to change in the huge closet. As I slipped out of my jeans and sweater, I called out, "Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?"

I pulled on my black dress pants and fastened them on the side, "Is this going to be like Dad's birthday party?"

She paused before replying, "No, it's just going to be close family and friends. Dad's birthday party was more for his business than for his actual birthday. That's why it was so big."

"No…" I hesitated to put my sleeveless shirt on, "I meant…" I stepped out of the closet and asked, "Nothing bad's going to happen, right?"

Mom had been smiling at first, no doubt impressed with my outfit but her face quickly saddened. She patted the empty space on the bed beside her and I moved to take it. "What happened at that party was unpredictable... But this isn't a public event so no bad people will know about it."

"But… We were learning to use the microfiche in the library and the newspaper says that it happens all the time… especially to Dad."

She bit her lip, not in the way she had taught me, "Mattie, your dad is very wealthy and a very powerful man. Sometimes people want to take advantage of that, like his birthday party. Those men knew a lot of other wealthy and powerful people would be there so that's why they tried to hold everyone for ransom."

"But it didn't work, right?"

"It rarely does. The good always seems to find a way to overcome the bad."

"Good … Like Batman?"

Mom smiled, "He is not just good. He… is the best."

"Did you meet him at Dad's party, when he saved everyone?"

"No, but… He's not the type to stick around to sign autographs."

"Like Superman?"

She laughed quietly, "You must be your father's daughter with a mind like that."

I shrugged, "And yours."

After a quiet moment, Mom suggested, "Well, why don't you change back, then maybe we can help Alfred finish up the food for tonight."

Since the party was due to start at eight, we were having an early dinner so that I could nap before my guest arrived and so that Mom and Dad could spend time with Nathan before putting him to bed for the night. Alfred had already volunteered to check in on him at night so that the "lord and lady of the manor may tend to their guests".

But where dinner was supposed to be fairly simple, something about a London Broil, there were going to many trays of snacks to help keep everyone fueled up for the big countdown to midnight. On top of that, Alfred had showed me how to make a punch and I couldn't wait to fill the giant crystal bowl.

When I had told Mom at dinner the night before, she had joked that she would be in charge of the adult party's punch, which had made Dad glare at her.

I had replied, "Don't worry, Dad, you can have some of our punch at the kids party."

That made him half-smile at least.

He had never been comfortable about me having parties or sleepovers since my kindergarten class had taken over the house. I can still remember Tim being buried alive in snow and how the Niedlzlekowski twins had used Uncle Clark to pin a tail on. Although nothing even remotely as bad as that had ever happened again, I could still see that Dad was nervous anytime my birthday approached or a Saturday afternoon in the summer.

Mom said that he would never get over it, not because he feared our past behavior but for what lies ahead.

She didn't need to explain any further.

Boys.

^V^

"Dick, I'm leaving in fifteen seconds, with or without you."

As I smoothed aftershave lotion over my jaw line with one hand and swabbed my ear with a Q-tip with the other, I spat out a mouthful of foamy toothpaste and replied, "I only need five." Actually, I could have used another five minutes to get ready but I knew they were not going to be granted to me.

After coming home from the office a little after three, I had decided to have a quick nap in order to rest up not only for the party but for the long night of patrols that would follow. More often than not Gotham's crime levels around the holiday season reached a lull that allowed even superheroes a chance to relax amidst loved ones. Unfortunately, the quiet that spread through the streets of Gotham had been unable to make its way to Bludhaven and I found myself trekking to my former city nearly five nights a week. Although uninvited, Huntress seemed to magically appear more nights than I would care to count as I patrolled the Haven.

To ease any unconscious worry, I joked with Barbara that I'd start sticking my gut out around her and making fun of Catholics in order to ward her off.

She laughed. On the outside.

During several of our chance encounters since her return to Gotham nearly a year earlier, I had an uneasy feeling that Huntress had finally put two and two together. Never a true detective, it didn't take much to recognize my face after it had been plastered on the newspapers and magazines following the shootout. That and she also knew what Barbara looked like…

I had sat down with Barbara in March to voice my concerns and was pleased to hear that she also shared them. We both agreed to feel her out for a while before confronting her on the subject. We also felt that it was best to limit our public interaction with Tim and Cass until our investigation was completed.

The case was closed Christmas Eve.

I had found her on the rooftop of a community center, watching as a line of shivering forms made their way in to the soup kitchen for a warm meal and a place to sleep for the night. A perfect Christmas gift for those trying to survive on the streets of Gotham. I had made the comment that we should hit up the orphanage next, maybe get a chance to spread some holiday cheer amongst the little ones.

She had replied, "Not a bad idea, considering we're both orphans."

Having rarely been confronted with another person learning my identity, I brushed it off at first. She was quick to say that there was no mistaking Dick Grayson, even before he managed to become a hero cop in a hateful city. Without any prompting, Huntress continued to say that she was quick to place Bruce as the former Batman and Barbara as the former Batgirl but that she was still uncertain as to the faces were behind the masks of the current ones. I had expected her to ask me to tell her but was surprised when she said,

"I don't know who they are and God help me, I hope I never do."

"Why's that?" I asked, my mouth uttering the words on its own accord.

"Knowing there is an actual person, a son or a daughter or even a father behind a mask… It's a distraction I can't afford."

Maybe she had changed after all.

I dashed down the corridor with two seconds to spare, grinning as Barbara glared, "We still have to pick up my father."

"Babs, you can't be late to a New Year's party, it doesn't really start until midnight."

Her features softened as she looked me over. She beckoned my closer with her forefinger and as I bent over, I wondered if she was going to slap me. Thankfully, she only wiped a smudge of Colgate Super Whitening off of my chin.

Just as I reached for my wool coat hanging off of the coat rack, Barbara's cell phone rang. She answered on the second ring after fishing it out of her purse. With the chance of having a least two more minutes to get ready, I raced back to the bedroom, musing my hair with a palm full of gel. When Barbara had not called after me, I then proceeded to hit myself up with another spritz of cologne.

I made my way back down the hall in a far more leisurely pace. Barbara was just returning her phone when I paused before her, "Ready to go?"

She nodded, "Yep."

As we made our way into the outer corridor towards the elevator, I let my curiosity ask, "Who was it?"

"Oh, Dad. He's going to drive up a little later with Will and the girls. Said he didn't want to keep us since he wasn't ready yet."

It was nearly quarter after eight and I knew for a fact he had been home since a little after six after I had called in to see how things had gone that day. He had replied in a far too Bruce-like manner, "Fine."

We made good time to Bristol, mostly because most Gothamites went into the city for New Year's rather than celebrating it in estate country. I had celebrated in the city once with Wally and Roy and was quick to see why Bruce deemed the holiday as a crime fighter's worst nightmare. Not only did you have to deal with the regular sort of criminals but you had a few ten thousand drunkards to spice up the night. While Roy and Wally had been screaming along wit the countdown, I had managed to slip out unnoticed to knock out a few unsavory characters before making my way back to yell out, "Two, one… Happy New Year!"

Upon arriving at the Manor, I already spotted a few familiar vehicles parked in front of the garage. Tim's new pimped out Honda that his father had gotten him for his birthday that year and Will's hybrid SUV in addition to Bruce's Jag. As we pulled up and parked, I was about to ask why it was out when Barbara offered, "Lois and Clark flew in this evening, must be Lois wanted to be picked up in style."

"Wait, flew in as in 'please put your trays in the upright position' or flew in as in 'sorry about the bugs, sweetie, I'll go to a higher elevation' ?"

She smiled at me, "You'll have to ask them."

As we made our way into the house, I offered to check in the kitchen with Alfred and suggested that Barbara greet our host and hostess. She smiled again and shook her head, saying I needed to leave something for the rest of them to eat later on.

Following a collection of heavenly aromas, I found Alfred arranging miniature crab cakes on a tray. Without looking up at my silent entrance, he greeted me with, "I believe there is a platter of crab stuffed mushrooms on the far counter in need of test testing, Master Dick."

"Figured it was the least I could do to help out," I replied, spotting my favorite treat. I popped three in my mouth before chewing thoroughly and swallowing. "Perfection. But just to be on the safe side…"

"Ahem," Alfred cleared his throat.

"Just kidding, Al. Where are we setting up shop?"

After placing the last crab cake perfectly in the center of its kin, Alfred responded, "The dining room has been organized into a buffet, sir… But these are for the den," he gestured to the trays lined up beside my mushrooms, "And those will be for the children's party in the entertainment room," he then pointed to the trays and platters on the opposite counter.

I took the platter of stuffed mushrooms and then selected another of baked filo dough cups filled with romaine lettuce and what appeared to be a Caesar dressing, "Consider the children fed."

On my way to the kids party, I sampled another two mushrooms and one of the filo salad cups. Before passing into the room, I rearranged them slightly to hide my gluttony. Walking into the entertainment room, I was surprised to see it one piece. Nearly a dozen of Mattie's friends were spaced throughout the room chatting excitedly as most pre-adolescents did at a party. The only thing that stood out was the tall, dark haired man chatting with Terry.

As I approached with food, several of the guests closed in on me and before I could set the tray down with the others it was half empty. Mattie waited for her friends to fill up before she walked over to me, "Guys, this is my older brother, Dick, the one I was telling you about."

A boy with closely cropped and overly gelled black hair smirked, "Your name is Dick?"

Before I could explain or even defend myself, Mattie spoke up, "A long time ago it was short for Richard."

With my self-esteem plummeting, I watched as a few of the kids walked away snickering my name again. As much as I wanted to make a speedy exit from the lion's den, I spotted Terry and the older gentleman approaching.

Once again, Mattie was quick to be the proper hostess, "This is Terry's dad, Tom. Mr. M this is Dick."

Mr. Miller offered a fairly calloused palm for me to shake, and I suddenly wondered what activity left the bookworm's hands so rough. I found myself saying, "Glad to finally meet you… you know we're having a grown up version of this down the hall, if you don't have any plans you're more than welcome to stay."

He smiled softly and adjusted his glasses before replying, "I'd love to but I have to drop off my oldest at a party yet and I have three classes worth of lectures to prepare for next semester."

Terry glanced up at his father, "You don't have to work all the time, Dad."

I found myself thinking that someone had to pull in the additional income that his late wife no longer provided…

Guilt filling me, I walked Miller to the door after he said good-bye to his son. As we made it to the front steps, he paused and glanced back at me, "I want to thank you… and Bruce and Selina too… It's been a rough few years for him… But whenever he comes to visit Mattie… he seems like he doesn't have a care in the world." He pulled his wool coat tighter around his lender form, "I guess that's what best friends are for."

The excitement I had been filled with upon arriving at Wayne Manor not twenty minutes earlier had been nearly depleted. As I finally made it to the adult party, I shuffled over to where Barbara was sitting on one of the big leather couches and sighed. She set her glass of wine down and asked "What happened?"

"Those kids are mean… They picked on my name… and didn't even say thank you when I brought them food…"

She reached over and patted my head, "There, there. I told you not to go in there didn't I?"

I pouted and offered a slight nod.

"Next time you'll listen, won't you?"

A bigger pout and a slighter nod.

"Here, have some of these," she offered a small plate of Alfred's divine miniature stuffed manicotti, "They'll make you feel better."

^V^

"I'll have another Stoli, while you're up!" Lois called out to her husband as he rose from the couch. I thought to myself that the five tumblers of vodka she had already consumed had robbed her of the knowledge that her husband had super-hearing.

Clark sighed and bypassed his original course of the little buffet table and proceeded to the small bar that Tim and Cass had arranged shortly before the guests had arrived. They both had been at the Manor since a little after six that evening, Cass to play with Nathan and Mattie.

Tim to play with Bruce. Or at least his mind.

An unknown villain had made Gotham his home since December first, leaving his naked victim on the steps of the courthouse with a printed sheet declaring that "the defendant, hereby charged with aggravated assault, armed robbery and resisting arrest, has been judged, by his peers, to be guilty." Four more similar bodies had been delivered in the same manner, each with their identity and supposed crimes listed in detail, each to various official buildings around the city.

Right away, Two-Face's history with justice had made him the initial suspect despite the fact that he had been behind the glass walls of Arkham Asylum since Bruce had put him there shortly after he took the cowl back from Dick. When Tim paid a visit to Arkham to interrogate Harvey, he was welcomed with twenty-four hour surveillance tapes showing that Harvey had been in Arkham every minute since he had been incarcerated. No visitors outside from his lawyer, mail that was scanned and read and printed before being handed over and no phone calls.

And a stern refusal of the head administrator to have Batman harassing one of his model inmates.

Not letting a Ph.D. in psychology stop him, Batman quickly gained access to the maximum security wing as he had when there had been an escape scare that had panned out to only be Harley wanting alone time with the Joker. His midnight visitor didn't surprise Harvey in the least but he had evidence backing up a solid alibi. Feeling defeated in not getting the truth out of Harvey, Tim had reported back to Bruce the night after the first body had been found.

After tucking the kids in, I had made my way down to the Cave just in time to hear Bruce offer a few words of encouragement to his young protégé, "Perhaps you did get the truth from him… The basis for these crimes do cry out Two-Face… but then again the showiness indicates someone who doesn't really care about right or wrong… and in the end that was what Two-Face always reflected back on, albeit not in the same way that we see right and wrong. A different kind of justice."

When Bruce realized I was listening, his tone shifted immediately to a gruff, "But I certainly wouldn't let him off the hook. Not yet."

A month later and still no solid evidence. And with the bodies piling up, the alliance between the DA, the commissioner and the Batman was somewhat tense but still moving forward.

I couldn't help but to think back on the days when a similar tension was present for a very similar reason, as the Holiday killer wreaked havoc on Gotham as well as it's protectors.

The good old days.

Bruce's hand touched my leg gently and I looked over to him, trying to put away the headlines of Gotham Gazette's both past and present. He offered a slight smirk before asking, "Would you like another drink?"

I glanced at the near empty glass of wine in my hand, of which had been the fourth he had volunteered to get me. After smiling at him, I replied, "Trying to get me drunk?"

"Never," he smiled back briefly but there was a twinge at the corner of his left eye that told me his smile was strictly for show.

Despite having been on medication for his cluster headaches for several months, he still suffered through the cycles nearly once a month. He dutifully refrained from complaining but the tension he kept inside was certain to reach a boiling point. Whenever I questioned him about the more invasive procedures to help relieve the pain, he'd list off reasons why the risk wasn't worth the benefits.

Just before Christmas he had the latest cycle and we fell into a fairly heated discussion about it. When he had yelled at me in a fairly Bat-like manner I had stormed out of his study and headed for the den where our children were decorating. After practicing a few verses, I sent them in on him singing at the top of their lungs, "Deck the halls with boughs of holly. Fa la la la la la la la la la la!"

Payback was in fact a bitch.

In the holiday week that followed, I let him suffer in silence. Even though the pained look on his face while the kids, both old and young, opened their gifts Christmas morning urged me to knock him unconscious and send him to the nearest hospital for treatment. Luckily the cycle came to a close three days before New Year's Eve. Certainly a house full of guests, both old and young, would have sent him over the edge.

As Clark tried to figure out how to water down straight vodka in order to keep his wife's BAL from rising any higher, I scanned the room briefly. Jim and Will were chatting with Dick and Tim while Barbara sat by herself on the far couch. I leaned over and kissed Bruce's cheek before setting a hand on his thigh, "Meet me at midnight upstairs for a New Year's kiss."

Before he could reply, I rose from the couch and made my way over to Barbara. She seemed surprised as I sat down beside her. I asked, "Long day?"

"Long night, rather. We had another guilty victim last night… This time it was one of the generals for Pasqualle's old ring."

I watched from across the room as Jim left Dick to sit with Bruce, "Well, that's a loss."

She hesitated, "True… But he served ten years after the bust… He's been a stellar parolee… It's almost a shame this guy couldn't have gone after any other of Gotham's scumbags."

"Any links yet?"

Barbara shook her head and looked at the plate of appetizers in her lap, "Tim thinks this guy has watched V For Vendetta one too many times."

"And my darling husband?"

"He thinks Tim shouldn't profile criminals based on comic book movies." Barbara laughed but just as I had seen with Bruce a moment earlier, there was a certain degree of falseness to her glee. I was about to ask about Jim when she cursed lowly. Without asking, I followed her intent gaze towards the massive windows that encompassed the front of the room. It offered a gorgeous view of the city at night, twinkling happily from fourteen miles away.

It also showed the Bat-signal whenever it seared the night sky.

When I looked up again, Dick had disappeared and Will was staring in wonderment out the window. The port he'd been sampling allowed the volume of his voice to rise slightly above a mutter, "I can't imagine that's any cheaper than a cell phone or a pager…"

Looking back to Barbara, I asked, "Aren't you going to leave?"

She rolled her eyes and offered a true smile, "And miss that champagne at midnight, hell no…" she paused and looked over as her father chatted with Bruce, "Do you think it will work?"

We watched on as Tim tiptoed behind the couch Bruce and Jim were sharing. He flashed a quick smile before making it to the door without notice.

"Hopefully… At least for a little while anyway. We got him to sit on the couch facing away from the windows… Your Dad has him by the ear… And hopefully Alfred will bring Nathan down for a faux tantrum before he notices it."

"Good thing we planned ahead."

I smiled; thinking how earlier in the day Barbara and I had schemed over the phone a number of ways to make sure Bruce did not interrupt Mattie's party. As much as she loved her father, she had been adamant that he wasn't allowed and if he did barge in, it would ruin her life. Knowing that New Year's always seemed to require the use of the Bat-Signal to call in the city's guardians, the plan to prevent Bruce from realizing everyone had left for Gotham, namely Chaperone Cassandra, had been most important.

As Bruce looked over at me and smirked softly, I thought to myself, So far, so good.

Lois hiccupped before saying, "Almost midnight, are we converging the two parties? Seems to me this one shrank…"

Damn Tim for putting out the port.

Bruce glanced up, ignoring Jim as he tried to change the topic back to his thoughts on the Judgement case. He quickly scanned the room, his eyes locking on the massive window. I knew we should have closed the black out drapes but Alfred wanted everyone to see the city skyline…

"Where's Tim and Dick?"

Barbara spoke, ever the creative one, "Oh, Dick went to see if Alfred had any more mushrooms and I think Tim is using the restroom."

A good cover seeing how the only person in the room who didn't know the truth was well on his way to drunk town.

Lois giggled as Clark sighed, looking at a pager-like device at his belt while he was still stirring vodka with water. He let the glass be and looked over his shoulder, "Bruce, it looks like the chief wants me to get down to the city to get a few interviews in after the ball drops, you mind if Lois stays the night?"

Distracted for a moment, Bruce nodded, "Of course, I'll have Alfred set her up in a guest room."

We watched on as he kissed his wife's brow and pleaded quietly to behave. She replied, less quietly, "Oh sometimes you have to live a little, Smallville," before she leaned forward on the couch and smack his buns of steel.

"I'll drink to that one, Lois," I replied, raising what was left of my wine.

Regaining focus, Bruce asked, "What about Cassandra?"

After licking my lower lip clean of red wine, I looked to Barbara. She looked right back at me before turning to Bruce, "Oh, I think she went to lay down. Pretty long day at work."

"So that means the kids are by themselves, right?" Will deduced, an odd clarity coming through the inebriated former police detective's voice.

"Right," I shrugged.

"So… but… the kids are alone then…" Bruce paused before leaping from the couch, racing for the door crying, "The kids are alone!"

^V^

Peering through the open doorway, I spotted Cass sitting with Mattie and a few girls I didn't recognize. Quite honestly, I hadn't been to many of her social events since her horrific sixth birthday party where I had been turned into a snowman. Even as Batman, I was still wary of the overwhelming power of a group of spoiled children…

"Psst."

Cass looked up and smiled before leaving her pack of young ladies. When she was within a foot of me, she asked, "What's up?"

"Signal. You coming?"

She glanced over her slender shoulder before replying, "Sure, let me just…" I watched on as she walked back and spoke to Mattie, "Tim and I are going to go for a little bit but I'll be back later."

Two of the girls started giggling and another snickered before saying "Oooo-oooo."

She defended herself, "It's not like that, I'm just going to go check out the other party for a bit."

A few of the boys looked over at me and I nodded as Cass glanced over as well, "Right, it's not like that…" when she looked away, their pre-pubescent eyes were still on me and I nodded before mouthing silently, "Oh yeah." Terry, who had become a staple in Wayne Manor in the last few years, laughed out loud while the other boys chuckled quietly.

Cass grabbed a wool coat off of one of the couches and approached me again, "I saw that. Ass," she tried to keep a straight face.

Before closing the door, I winked at the boys again before saying, "Well, I see your ass, too," which was followed another roar of laughter, much louder than the former.

We were a few yards down the corridor when she asked, "Anything?"

"No, Signal just went up, probably the Commish wants a pow wow about last night." We made it to the study with long, quick strides and after I opened the clock entrances, she darted passed me, crying out, "Race you!"

Although she had a slight lead, I managed to catch her at the bottom of the granite steps and we were neck and neck to the costume vault. I tried to trip her on the way in, but she lashed out with a flat palm and smacked me on the cheek much harder than a love tap would ever be classified as.

Disrobing feverishly, we quickly went about suiting up and stocking utility belts. I had my leggings, boots and gloves on and she had on her tunic and gloves when Dick walked in, already in his guise. We paused as he looked over the chaotic scene before him, "You two… are so… weird"

Cass chucked one of her discarded dress shoes at him, "Get out, perv."

He caught the shoe without looking, "Sure thing," he replied before turning, "Chicken legs."

The second shoe caught him right between his buttocks, causing him to hop a step, "What's with your girl hitting my ass, lately?"

"Big target," I replied as I pulled on the Dragon Armor chest plate.

He paused before turning back to face the open vault entrance, "After we see the Commissioner, I am totally pummeling you with a snow ball."

"Oh it's on," I smirked before pulling my tunic on over my body armor.

Dick put on his Nightwing mask, activating the lenses before replying, "Like the break of dawn!"

Cassandra, fully garbed and ready walked passed me, out of the vault and towards one of the Bat-cycles, muttering, "Idiots."

Despite the light snow, the ride into the city was fairly easy. Nightwing opted to ride with me in the Mobile while Batgirl had gone ahead on her own. Even in the chilly weather, she still loved a cycle more than the warm safety of a car. We made it Tri-Town less than thirty minutes after the signal had first seared the sky. On the way, Nightwing had checked all o f the police lines but nothing major was being broadcasted. Thus either this was a private consultation with the Commissioner or someone else had flipped the switch…

I opted to go alone and have Batgirl and Nightwing ready if anything unsavory were to take place. With a single shot, I landed a grapple on one of the larger gargoyles before activating the draw mechanism to pull myself up to the rooftop. On the side of caution, I chose to stop at the last story window ledge in order to get a look before landing into unknown water.

There was no sign of the Commissioner but rather the shivering camel hair coat wearing form of District Attorney Bryce. Deciding it was safe, I landed soundlessly on the roof before clearing my throat.

Unlike Kelsey or even Gordon, Bryce didn't jerk or swear at the shock. Instead, he turned around and offered a weak smile. "Happy new year."

I glanced over my shoulder to the Clocktower, "Almost."

"Kelsey had planned on meeting me up here but the mayor is force feeding her egg nog up at his mansion."

Had I still been Robin, I would have said, "It was good of you to hit the signal, we'll do what we can to save her."

But I wasn't, so I didn't.

The rooftop was nearly silent aside from the faint cheers of those celebrating down below.

"Special Crimes has this whack job Bennett running the Judgement murders now… He's trying to convince everyone on the case that you should be a prime suspect."

Not entirely surprising. Raymond Bennett had been with GCPD since before I had first donned green tights. Bruce had never had any positive interactions with the man, mostly because of Bennett's strong anti-vigilante policy. I recalled a string of triple homicides by Mr. Zsasz shortly after I had started. Batman had told me to stay back as he had approached the crime scene, leaving me on a fire escape while he broke in the window. Montoya had been present, talking notes and sketches of the bodies and had paid no mind to the dark looming figure that was carefully examining evidence.

Bennett had suddenly entered the room and drew his gun, quickly taking aim at Batman's head. Before Montoya could respond, Batman had already taken the defense and thrown a batarang that stunned Bennett's gun hand. When the barely injured detective started crying out charges of assaulting an officer and demanding the arrest of his assailant, Commissioner Gordon had passed into the room. After a brief reprimand of his detective, Gordon had ordered him off the case and out of the apartment building.

If I recalled correctly, some of the crime scene crew had laughed as he had passed.

"I wanted to let you know before it got to the papers. I'll knock him down as many pegs as I can but with his solve rate it'll be tricky. Maybe I can get Kelsey to reassign him--."

"I'll talk to him."

Bryce nodded, "I suppose it would be best coming from you. Might make a stronger impression than I ever could, that's for sure…"

Not really too pleased I had been called away from the Manor for a social visit, I asked quietly, "Anything else?"

After a sigh, Bryce shook his head, "No… Wait, yes…"

I watched on as he returned to the Bat Signal, leaving the bright beam of light on to sear the cloudy sky. He bent over at the waist and picked up a small wrapped package before walking back towards me.

"As stupid as it may be, my wife wanted me to give this to you… She… We want you to know how much we appreciate you… what you do, rather."

He proffered the green and red gift and I hesitated before taking it from him, wondering just how many late Christmas gifts Bruce ever received in the mask…

"When we first met… After you left anyway, I told Nigthwing how you had saved my wife and I a few years ago from a mugger. I know you don't remember, probably not anything that is really that important to you compared to everything else you do but…" he lost his words and suddenly looked like an embarrassed child.

"Every life saved is important, Bryce. By my hand or anyone else's."

"Dana… My wife… She says that to me whenever I feel like I haven't accomplished anything with a case but... But you, you save people. Same with her, she's a doctor working in the inner city. We joke that we should have a family business, she puts the victims back together and I put the criminals behind bars…"

We listened once more as the cheering increased below to a monotonous count down. I glanced again at the Clocktower just as it struck midnight. Not a moment later, fireworks filled the night sky and the cheers below tripled in volume.

"Happy new year, Bryce," I said before jumping off of the rooftop.

Before meeting back up with Nightwing and Batgirl, I found recluse on the roof of the Piedmont Bank and opened the small box. A handwritten note sat atop the tissue paper and I read silently: _Batman – Tim wanted to keep these as souvenirs from Bruce Wayne's birthday party but I thought you might want to put them to better use. Happy Holidays and best wishes for a peaceful new year– Dana (and Tim!)_

Beneath the tissue paper was a pair of Batarangs, an unused gas pellet and a white linen napkin that held part of my left boot print.

^V^

It was one thing for Mattie and a few of her girlfriends to be alone for a party in my house.

It was an entirely different matter for Mattie and a few of her girlfriends to be alone for a party in my house with boys.

As I had practically ran out the room, Selina had called after me to let the kids be. I had growled something undecipherable back to her about Spin the Bottle and Lois had laughed, "I want to play!"

Just as I turned down the corridor towards the entertainment room where uncertain chaos was no doubt taking place, I spotted a still form between me and the door I had all intentions of barging through, despite my daughter's pleadings.

"If you take one more step Master Bruce--."

"Alfred, not now."

"I beg your pardon, sir, but Miss Mattie as well as Ms. Selina requested I take any necessary actions to prevent unlawful intrusion of that room."

I glared at him, "Unlawful intrusion… this is my--."

The soft sound of footsteps on carpet interrupted me

As I turned, I wouldn't have been surprised to see Clark waiting to pin me to the ground so that Alfred would be able to tranquilize me and lock me in the coat closet so that my daughter's guests could enjoy the remainder of the evening without interruption.

Instead, Jim Gordon stood mere yards down the hall, "Selina said I should shoot out your kneecaps if you open that door… Or at least one of them."

"Did she."

He smirked, causing his gray moustache to twitch, "Good thing the Beretta's in the car."

Jim looked beyond me and offered a curt nod to Alfred. When I looked at him as well, Alfred sighed in defeat, "I only ask that you knock first, sir."

With permission, and caution seeing how I was unsure whether or not Alfred was armed, I knocked three times on the door before hearing laughter and my daughter's voice, "Come in!"

The room wasn't in pieces. There were no signs of sexual misconduct. There wasn't even a stray piece of popcorn or cracker on the floor. The kids were lounging about on the chairs watching the scene of downtown Gotham on the big screen, wearing party hats and practicing with a variety of noisemakers. A glance at the screen showed it to be the final ten seconds of the year.

Mattie glanced back at me, snuggled in one of the leather recliners with Terry. She waved as I called out, "Happy new year, kitten!"

"Happy new year, Dad!"

I looked back to Alfred as the kids counted down loudly and almost in unison. Maybe Selina was right, maybe I was overreacting to Mattie growing up. Maybe all these years spent agonizing over her future as a young woman had been wasted. Maybe I should be cherishing these moments rather than dreading them...

As they reached one and proceeded to jump up and down on thousands of dollars worth of furniture, I looked back to my daughter with a smile on my face.

One that quickly vanished when I spotted her leaning towards Terry, lips pursed…

As every muscle in my body lit afire, Alfred stepped forward and closed the door in my face. As I reached for the doorknob, Jim spoke again, "Bruce." My heart rate had doubled in the last moment but somehow I managed to keep my cool as I looked in his direction. He continued, "Let's go for a walk."

Despite the fact that I knew Mattie's party had indeed taken the turn I had dreaded, I found myself walking the stone path that surrounded Wayne Manor rather than in my rightful place.

Namely, the entertainment den warding vile young boys away from my daughter with two handfuls of recently sharpened Batarangs.

With the temperature easily below freezing and my mind definitively elsewhere, I wanted to ask Jim why he deemed it necessary to continue our chat from earlier outside. However, I had all the respect in the world for him and knew when he wanted me to know, he would.

"Tough couple of years," he finally said as we neared the first complete lap.

"I suppose."

"I suppose… they'll only get tougher." I was about to ask how he had handled Barbara's adolescence when he continued, "Now, I don't want you to get the way you do about things… and I especially don't want you to take this out on Selina because she is at no fault for telling me."

The sound of our feet crunching the snow stopped as I turned towards him, doing my best not to look at him with a glare, "For telling you what?"

"She only did so because of what I told her--."

"For telling you what, Jim?"

He paused and let out a puff of air from his lips after clearing his throat, "The headaches. She told me about the headaches."

Although I had not expressly told Selina not to tell anyone, I felt that she would have kept it to herself out of her respect for me. Obviously, I was mistaken.

Something must have changed in my face for he continued, "I told you not to get angry with her, it's been three seconds and I can already see it in your eyes. Life's too short to be angry with those you love, you of all people should know better."

Jim and I had always been fairly frank with one another, especially after he had learned of my secret identity. But the words he had just uttered hit somewhere deep in my body between my heart and my stomach.

"Now, before I was interrupted… she only told me because of what I told her."

An all too familiar silence fell between us and I found my heart rate rising again.

"I have lung cancer, Bruce."

Although hundreds of questions flooded my mind, I found myself unable to utter a single word, giving him all the time in the world to answer what I could not ask.

"It's the non-small cell type… Adenocarcinoma… Stage one so at least we caught it early enough to do something about it. I've done chemo once now but I'll be starting radiation next week…"

I finally managed, "When did you…"

"Last October. Right about when Selina found out about your headaches…" I opened my mouth but he interrupted me, "And don't you dare lecture me about keeping secrets from you. It's about time I finally knew something you didn't."

Although he smirked, I found myself barely able to breathe.

He rubbed his hands together, "I guess all those times you said I should quit smoking…"

"Jim, if there's anything I can do to help…"

Jim nodded before looking into my eyes, "There is, actually. I want you to get radiation treatment for your headaches. Selina says you're popping pills and there's no change… You need to take care of yourself, Bruce. For her. For the kids. You may not think it, but there are people who still need your help."

He left me standing in the cold without saying another word.

It took another hour to see to it that all of the party guests were settled in for the evening. Jim took Will home but the girls chose to spend the night. Lois was in the guest room on the second floor as were the boys from Mattie's party. I set a motion sensor on the doorknob just to be safe. The girls all chose to sleep in Mattie's room, of which I also set up with a sensor.

I made it to the master bedroom at ten after one. Selina was laying on the bed, facing away from the door, still dressed in her dark slacks and blouse. When I paused at the dresser to disrobe, she commented, "I said midnight."

"Sorry," no sign of humor in my voice.

As I unbuttoned my shirt, I heard her rise from the bed. When I went to remove it, her arms snaked around my waist and I felt her face press against my shoulder. After turning, she kept me in an embrace but looked up at me.

The mascara that she had laboriously applied earlier that evening had run down her cheeks along with a number of tears. Before I could ask what was wrong, she said, "Barbara told me… that Jim was going to tell you…"

Without a thought, I wrapped my arms around her as well, letting her rub her black streaked face over my Armani dress shirt. Eventually, she pulled back and looked up at me again, "I'm so sorry, Bruce, I know…" her breath caught suddenly.

"How much he means to me," I finished for her.

Her smile came across sad but it was still a smile. Selina let out a gush of air and began wiping her face, "God, I must look awful…"

Raising my hands, I cupped her face in them, tilting her head to me slightly.

_Life's too short to be angry with those you love…_

I pressed my lips to hers, with no intention of removing them.

…_you of all people should know better._

^V^


	22. What Lies Ahead: XXII

Title: What Lies Ahead: XXII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: Spring brings new life to Gotham.

Author's Note:

^V^

While eight armed men, who had made the ill choice to rob an art museum in Gotham City, fired semi-automatics at me I somehow managed to hear Barbara's voice on the comm. link, "You have a call, dear."

"Um, do the words 'take a message' mean anything to you?" I snapped as a ricocheting bullet missed my left eyebrow by an inch.

She paused before saying, "It's Trey."

"I'm pretty sure he can dictate a message, as touched in the head as he is…" another bullet whizzed by, although a flash of pain on my bicep said that it was a lot less than an inch away, "Damnit!"

"It's Trey… Shannon's…" one of the master marksman shot out one of the fire extinguishers on the wall behind me and there was a loud bang before white foam flew in every direction.

"She's what?" I asked as I threw as many batarangs as possible, counting the number of cries to test my accuracy. Seven for eight, not bad. One more and the room became absent of shooting and filled with cries of anguish and pain.

Despite the fact that all of the gunfire had ended, Barbara still yelled, "She's in labor Dick!"

"Why didn't you say so in the first place!" I leapt from behind my makeshift cover, a bullet riddled marble statue of an elephant. Whatever assailant wasn't unconscious, I quickly saw to it that he went down for the count. One tried to throw one of my batarangs back at me but he sliced his hand open and wailed in pain.

"Night night," I smirked before hitting him square in the nose. As I began to bind them by the wrist and ankle, I continued, "Babs, tell him I'll be there as soon as I can but it might be an hour or so."

"Dick… just wait, I'll patch him through."

After a soft click, my ears were filled with the sound of gunfire but for once someone wasn't shooting at me. I heard a loud growl that sounded like Trey but was far too decisive and authoritative, "What's the ETA on SWAT? Well, make it ten minutes less than that, damnit!" A moment later, the Trey I knew asked, "Dick, you there?"

"Yeah, Babs just gave me the phone, said Shannon was in labor. Congrats."

"Um, thanks but…" another barrage of gunfire, a flash of sirens and then, "Listen, Dick, I'm kind of in a bind, hostage situation botched down at the Women's Center… I'm the CO and I can't exactly leave…"

"Wait, your wife is having a baby and your shooting bad guys? What is your secret?"

He laughed nervously, "Sheer luck… I know it's asking a lot but… Shannon doesn't want her Mom in there when she delivers… thinks that she'll just get to the point where she might kill her in-between contractions… So… do you think, I mean if you don't mind…"

Instead of forcing him to come out and pose probably the greatest favor he could ever ask of me, I grinned and said, "I'll be there in less than an hour, tell Shannon to cross her legs and hope that the troopers aren't ambitious enough to pull me over."

He barked suddenly, "I want those cameras up on those light poles stat, we need visuals of every side, every entrance!" then softer, "Thanks, Dick… this really means a lot… like…" Trey laughed, and ended in a poor Italian accent, "Grazie, Godfather, grazie."

After hanging up with him, I called in my collection of goons for clean up with an anonymous tip to special crimes. When the officer taking the message asked the current situation of the criminals, I replied, "Shhh, they're sleeping."

I made it back to the Clocktower in less than fifteen minutes. Choosing to sneak through the window into Barbara's sanctum, I found her talking into her headset, "You sure you can handle things?"

There was a loud grunt over the speakers followed by, "We'll manage… Give Trey our best."

"Softie," I muttered.

"I heard that."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. When I heard the connection close, I was about to ask Barbara if she wanted me to drive but she turned to me, "Dick, you're bleeding all over my rug."

I glanced down to see that blood was indeed dripping down my arm and onto her new Indo-Persian rug from Ethan Allen. "My bad," I muttered before pressing my palm over the flesh wound.

"Do you need stitches?"

"I don't think--."

As she turned and headed for the entrance, she said, "Good because we don't have time."

Following my wife, I asked, "Wait, so if I had been shot, for real not shot like this…"

"I might get you a bandage."

I began removing my Nightwing suit as I followed her, "What no IV, no morphine, no ice cream bar?"

As we made it to the bedroom, she laughed, "Maybe an ice cream bar… If you get your tunic and gloves off, I'll clean it and wrap it… But you have five seconds to--."

"Please, Babs, I'm a pro at taking my clothes off, especially one handed."

Her brow rose slightly, "I'd ask but I'm afraid of what your answer will be."

In less then fifteen minutes, we both had washed up and changed and were just getting on the highway for Bludhaven. She opted to drive since my arm was a little tender, being shot and all. I took the time to call the hospital to let Shannon know we were on our way. A nurse answered the phone and I barely could understand her over shrill screams of agony.

No wonder Trey opted for getting shot at all night.

Breaking the silence as Babs sped towards the Haven and uncertain doom, I said, "So your Dad said he was coming to work tomorrow."

She nodded and set the car to cruise control at a keen eighty-seven miles per hour, "Yeah, I went over to his place for lunch earlier… He wanted to come in today but he ended up taking Frank to the dog park to let him lose some energy on the bigger dogs."

Jim had just wrapped up his third and hopefully final series of external radiation treatments for lung cancer in as many months. But more importantly, he was doing well. His doctor had given a fairly positive prognosis as long as they were able to keep the cancerous cells from spreading beyond his lung tissue. I thought back to the first time he went in for radiation, Barbara and I had gone with him for support.

I had joked that if he came out glowing, at least we wouldn't have to buy a new back up generator for the office.

He had sighed and responded, "No wonder everyone used to take you hostage."

But where Jim had been more than thankful to have us go along with him for each treatment, Bruce had been fairly adamant about doing it himself. Leslie had partnered him with one of her close friends at Memorial. That dreadful night that Jim had told Barbara, Selina and I about his cancer, Selina had also confessed about Bruce's ailments. We had each agreed to keep it within the small group for the time being. After Jim had told Bruce, however, he had proceeded to tell the remaining members of the Family that were unaware, as did Bruce: Tim and Cassandra.

I remembered patrolling with Tim that night, he had been fairly less enthusiastic in his battle against crime. When we took a break after taking down a group trying to clean out the Apple Store on Hendricks Avenue, he had finally admitted, "Why didn't he tell me until now?"

Not really having an answer, I simply told him the truth.

"Because he's Bruce."

"I know... but still…"

"But nothing. Bruce will be a hundred years old and he'll still be keeping secrets from us."

"You think he'll live to a hundred?" Tim had offered a half of a smirk.

"Are you kidding? Bruce is going to live forever."

^V^

"Your turn, Miss Mattie."

I watched as the angelic face of her angelic face grinned deviously, "All right, I have two, four, six, eight, ten… fifteen countries so I get how many extra guys?"

"Infantryman, Miss Mattie."

"Right, infantryman."

"Divide by three," I directed.

She did so mentally and smiled, "Five… plus I have all the territories in Africa so I get three more infantryman…"

I gave her eight purple pieces and watched as she strategically placed them on the offensive hold between Asia and Africa where my red combatants were holding on by a thread.

As she debated over what territory to attack first, I glanced over my shoulder to see Leslie sitting beside a slumbering Nathan on the couch. With their parents in the city for the evening attending a Wayne foundation charity fundraiser, I had agreed to watch the children but had seen to it that I had back up. The age gap between Miss Mattie and Master Nathan did make entertaining them conjunctively fairly difficult.

And it was always a delight to see Leslie doting upon them…

"All right, Alfred, here we go," Miss Mattie announced before rolling three dice. She was attacking across the Mediterranean from Egypt to Southern Europe territory, which was dominated by Italy. After her last assault, I only had two viable soldiers to stand up against her eight.

She laughed when her dice came up two five's and a six while mine had been two three's.

"Sorry, Alfred…" she snickered as she removed my men and marched three of her soldiers into Rome.

Sighing at my continuing misfortune, I replied, "It is a game of risk, hence the name."

I heard footsteps from across the den and I looked up to see Leslie had risen from the couch, the child motionless in her arms. After making it to my feet, I said, "I'll tend to him madam, perhaps you may salvage some of Team Pennyworth from Miss Mattie's stronghold."

She carefully put him into my arms and I waited until I was out of the room and headed for the stairs before whispering, "My dear lad, I feel you are becoming too grown to be carried up these stairs…"

I made it to the landing between the second and third set of stairs before pausing to take a rest. Whether it as my heavy breathing or my fight to keep the three-year-old in my arms, his crystal blue eyes opened and he hugged me, "Alfie. I'm sleepy."

"As am I, Master Nathan…" After conquering one last set of stairs, we managed to make it to his bedroom. I set him on the bed but rather than laying down, he moved to sit up, "Whe-we Mommy? And Daddy?"

"They are still at dinner, young sir. I am afraid they won't be back until much later this evening."

He yawned and proceeded to stare at the open doorway, "W-eally late?"

"Really late, sir."

A pout that was far too similar to his older sibling's formed on his tiny lips. Not wanting him to become upset to the point of being difficult for bed, I asked, "So, what book shall we read tonight, Master Nathan?"

"Ummmm…. Puh-ple Gw-een and Yellow."

"A most excellent choice, young sir," I commented as I perused the bookshelf beside his bed. I finally located the thin book entitled "Purple, Green and Yellow." I couldn't help but smile as Master Nathan left out the r's in his speech. Naturally, Master Bruce was deeply concerned about his son's vocalizations but after a meeting with a speech therapist, he had to settle for the fact that the child had a natural New England accent.

After he pulled the covers over his tiny form, I helped him adjust the pillow behind his back before also settling on the bed to read. As I made it to the third page of Brigid's fictional quest for the perfect coloring marker, Master Nathan's first snore escaped him. I completed the thirty-two-page picture book nevertheless before turning off his bedside light and leaving his room, the door slightly ajar.

Returning to the den, I was not shocked to see that Miss Mattie had taken over the known world in my absence. Both she and Leslie were seated on the couch facing the glowing fireplace, talking quietly. Her duties at the clinic had kept Leslie from most family gatherings; something I knew secretly pained her. But it was equally painful to leave those who relied on her skills as a doctor in order to enjoy time for herself.

"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, my dear, but it is a quarter passed nine," I announced while approaching them.

Miss Mattie yawned, "I suppose… and it's tiring taking over the world."

"Apparently so, Miss Mattie."

As the young lady turned to give Leslie a good night kiss, I heard footsteps in the hallway and hushed voices. By the time I faced the entrance into the den, Master Bruce and Ms. Selina were passing through, still wearing their black dress coats over the formal attire they had departed in.

"Mom, Dad!" Miss Mattie trotted over before wrapping her arms around Ms. Selina's waist.

When she moved to hug Master Bruce, he said, "Figured we'd skip dessert so we could tuck you and Nathan in."

Miss Mattie smiled before declaring, "I won Risk, Dad, but Alfred put up a good fight."

"Oh, yes," I added, "To the bitter end, I'm afraid."

After walking forward, I motioned to take Master Bruce's jacket but he spoke quietly, "I've got it Alfred." I watched as he removed his jacket and then helped Ms. Selina out of hers. "Why don't we head upstairs and get changed, then we'll read in your room, Mattie."

"Okay…" Miss Mattie smiled at me, "Good night, Alfred."

I bid her good night as well as she and her father disappeared into the hallway. After a moment, I asked Ms. Selina, "May I inquire as to how the fundraiser went?"

"Oh it was fine… Except…" she let a brief snicker escape her lips before continuing, "Bruce fell asleep… he was just sitting there… and then the representative for the youth center that the money was going to… she asked him to say a few words and he just snapped right awake. Got right up there and gave a really touching speech about the importance of youth having a safe place to turn to… I'm sure it will be on the eleven o clock news."

Having just started his second course of radiation treatment for his cluster headaches, Master Bruce was fairing very well aside from a few minor side effects. Although his headaches were fading, so was his once abundant energy. After he had survived the first round of treatment, he had been helping Miss Mattie in her bedroom with her school assignments. When I had gone up with refreshments, she was leaving her room just as I was entering.

"Dad fell asleep going over my math homework… I told him it was boring but he didn't believe me," she had shrugged as we had looked in on him, sitting on the floor, leaning against her bed, sound asleep with a calculator in one hand and worksheets in the other.

Ms. Selina cleared her throat before saying, "Well, I best get upstairs… you two enjoy your evening." She smiled and offered a slight wink before returning to the corridor.

Turning towards the couch, I noticed Leslie patting the couch cushion beside her.

"Madam, I am afraid the hour is late…"

"Sit down, Alfred."

"… Yes, dear."

^V^

"Sit down, Bruce."

He grunted as he continued to scan the medical poster on the waiting room wall that listed the top fifty ailments for men over fifty. Finally, he sighed and chose to sit down beside me. I set a hand on his thigh and offered him a magazine from the coffee table, "Here, this is more useful."

Bruce read the cover topics aloud, "How Dirty is His Mind? Sexy Eyelashes in Thirty Seconds. Ah, excellent. Ten New Positions To Reach That Peak…"

I snatched it away from him, "Never mind, go back to reading about irritable bowel syndrome."

We had arrived ten minutes early to his appointment. The second day of nine that would have my husband under the torturous external radiation machine, meticulously guiding invisible beams into his brain in hopes of reducing the scar tissue causing his headaches. The first round of treatment had taken place in February, after Leslie arranged for her close friend Michele Ferraro to take on Bruce as a patient. Leslie had even come to the first appointment to help explain… things.

Luckily, the first treatment had used very little radiation so the side effects had been easily managed with plenty of fluids, rest and high calorie diet. Both Leslie and Dr. Ferraro agreed to wait a month to see if the cluster headache cycle returned before proceeding with treatment. Unfortunately, they did but nowhere near the extent they had been before.

Less than twenty-four hours earlier we had been in Dr. Ferraro's office going over the plan for the second course of treatment. Mostly, she explained the need to increase the amount of radiation used, of which would cause stronger side effects.

She had been taking Bruce's vitals as she explained, "The fatigue will be back but to a larger degree… Also there's a chance for nausea, nosebleeds and more noticeable changes of the skin on your face…"

Bruce had asked, "How much more noticeable?"

Dr. Ferraro paused before taking his pulse, "You only had minor irritation last time… I think, as long as you stay on top of keeping your skin clean and moist, it shouldn't be too severe. There is a risk of ulceration but if that's the case we can try a different setting… And also… there will be more hair loss."

"More?" I had blurted out.

"It was fairly minimal last time, barely noticeable in fact… This round may cause total hair loss of your scalp…"

Bruce had looked over at me suddenly and I had smiled in order to reassure him, "I'd rather it be gone than gray, darling."

He forced a smile but on the ride home, he had announced his displeasure in my remark.

I had reached over and tugged a few hairs out of the back of his head, "There, head start."

Thinking back on the shocked look on his face, I was distracted when I heard the nurse at the front desk call out, "Mr. Wayne? Dr. Ferraro will see you now."

He rose to his feet again and stepped forward. I left the Cosmo on the small couch and followed him down the wide corridor to the exam room we knew all too well. There, Bruce would have his vitals taken before he and Dr. Ferraro chatted briefly about any questions or concerns. He would then change into a set of medical scrubs before being lead to the treatment room.

A routine plastered in my mind whether I wanted it to be or not.

Dr. Ferraro was waiting for us, her white coat covering a pair of khaki pants and a silk green blouse. She was well over fifty but barely looked thirty-five. I had asked what her secret was when we had first met a few months earlier and she had told me grapefruit juice and water aerobics classes. And Botox.

"Bruce, Selina, come on in… Saw you two on the news last night, how did the charity go?"

Bruce took a seat on the exam table and I chose one of the two chairs against the wall. He went about unbuttoning the top few buttons of his dress shirt before he replied, "Very well actually, we raised enough to rebuild the gymnasiums and put in a pool at each of the five recreation centers."

Dr. Ferraro nodded with a slight smile, "Good to hear…" she silently checked his pulse, respiration and temperature before announcing, "All right, you're all set… I'll go down and set it up, see you in a few."

After she had departed, Bruce stepped off of the exam table and unbuttoned the remainder of his shirt. As he pulled his garments off, I took them and folded them a little too precisely. While donning the dark blue poly-cotton medical scrubs, Bruce said, "I'll walk you down to the waiting room."

Shaking my head, "No, I'll go with you today."

"You don't have to," he said, his voice softer than usual.

As I shrugged, I replied, "I'd rather see you tortured as opposed to thinking about it."

"Fair enough…" Navigating our way to the treatment room, he snuck his hand over to mine and squeezed it. I entwined my fingers with his and smirked as his thumb gently caressed the side of my wrist.

We passed through a set of lead lined double doors and I felt the butterflies that had been dormant in my stomach come to life. I had seen the actual treatment a handful of times and it involved nothing more than having Bruce lay on a table. What bothered me most was the facemask they put on him to immobilize his head and neck. Made of clear plastic and lined with a grid, it attached to the treatment table and locked him in. Although I never thought of myself as being claustrophobic, it always sent a chill down my spine.

I took a seat in the control room that was attached to the much larger treatment bay. Through the treated glass, I, along with the radiation nurse and Dr. Ferraro would be able to watch Bruce lay absolutely still. Very exhilarating. Before passing through another lead lined door, Bruce was stopped by Dr. Ferraro, "Almost forgot…"

She took a small antiseptic napkin and began to wipe Bruce's forehead. For accuracy of treatment, and to make sure they didn't fry any parts of Bruce's brain that they didn't need to, they had tattooed several freckle-sized dots on his face in order to accurately direct the radiation. Although barely noticeable, Bruce had opted to cover them up, just as he did with the scars on his neck, face and hands that didn't match up with a billionaire's lifestyle.

During his first course of treatment, we had been getting ready to head out for dinner and Mattie had walked in to our bedroom to see if we were ready. When she glanced into the bathroom, I had been putting my curling my eyelashes and Bruce had been applying concealer.

She had asked with the most disturbed look on her face, "Dad, why are you wearing makeup?"

Ever the master of coming up with explanations, Bruce had found himself utterly speechless.

The radiation nurse, a very pleasant young man by the name of Andrew, lead Bruce into the treatment room, "All right, let's get you settled in… We'll go with ten minutes, same as yesterday."

Bruce nodded but before he walked through the door, he looked back at me and winked.

Not eight minutes later, Bruce was strapped down to the table by the head, breathing slowly and methodically. Andrew was positioning the linear accelerator above Bruce's head, using a series of buttons on the massive overhead device to adjust it to perfection. Once everything was lined up, Andrew leaned in and offered Bruce a few words of encouragement.

For ten minutes, the treatment room was filled with loud clanking, banging and knocking.

For ten minutes, I bit my lower lip, almost to the point of drawing blood.

For ten minutes, Bruce's hands never let go of their death grip on the mattress.

^V^

"You didn't have to come pick us up, Barbara…"

I glanced over my shoulder at my passengers, "Please, and let you suffer a Gotham cab ride?"

Jim smirked in the rear view mirror, "My big sis looking out for me…"

Unknown to my… our father, Jim Jr. and his girlfriend Maureen had flown in from Chicago to spend the week in Gotham City. They hadn't been out since my wedding although Dad had been to visit them quite a few times. After so many years, it was nice to see him finally reaching out to his son.

Jim and Maureen had expected to share a guest room for their brief visit but with the unsorted activity that took place in the Clocktower, we had to come up with more suitable arrangements. Courtesy of DJG Security, they had a penthouse suite at the Crown Hotel for the duration of their stay.

"So, we're meeting Dad for lunch?" Jim asked suddenly.

Dick, who was in a stalemate of trying to outwit our new GPS navigator, answered, "Yeah but nothing too fancy… Actually we're having dinner up at Bruce's later this week. Little, simple get together."

"I'm pretty sure nothing in that house can be considered little nor simple," Maureen laughed. I suddenly remembered the look on her face when she arrived just in time for our wedding almost four years earlier. Although she herself had come from a fairly comfortable family, the scope and grandeur of Wayne Manor could knock even the wealthiest down a peg or two. At the reception, she had asked how many rooms there were and Mattie had replied, "I tried to count once… I got to thirty-six before I gave up."

After a moment of silence, Jim spoke up, "How is he, Barbara? I mean... really, on the phone it's hard to tell."

I paused before forming an answer. In light of everything, Dad was actually doing very well. The cancerous cells had been contained to the lung tissue where they originated and the radiation treatment had fairly manageable side effects. He had lost the hair on his chest after the first round and had joked that at least the waxed torso look was back in style. But where he once took Frank for three long walks every day, he resorted to letting the dog run about the small back yard he had while watching from the back step. He went from fifty-hour workweeks to barely over twenty-five, doing a great deal of work from home.

"He's actually doing great," Dick said suddenly, "We went down the shooting range the other day and he scored a hell of a lot better than me…"

Jim nodded and forced a smile, but the look in his eyes as he glanced into the rear view mirror said he wasn't convinced.

After a slight sigh, I spoke, "It's the radiation that's dragging him down, not the cancer. He was feeling great before he started treatment… hopefully this round will be more effective."

"And if it's not?" my little brother asked.

"They'll have to insert an implant into his chest cavity, so he'll have a constant exposure to radiation."

There was a brief moment of silence before Maureen asked, "Why did they start with the other type of radiation, then?"

I turned into the restaurant's parking lot and replied; "His doctors felt the more aggressive they were early on, the less we would have to be later…"

After we had parked and exited the car, the dreary talk of Dad's cancer subsided and it was smiles all around. Making our way to the entrance, I glanced over my shoulder, "So, why are you in Gotham?"

"Well… to see Dad," Jim stammered.

"No other reason?"

He glanced at Maureen and shrugged, "Nope, just figured it's been a while…"

"Right…"

Dad was already at one of the larger table's at Caldlow's, one of his favorite steakhouses in Gotham. When I had first come to live with him, he had taken me there at least three times the first week. And then five times the next week.

After that, I started reading cookbooks at the library.

As our small group approached, Dad was scanning the specials, no doubt legitimately distracted by mouth-watering entrees. Jim stepped forward as we paused at the table and asked, "Anything look good, Pop?"

Dad practically leapt from his chair, dropping the menu on the floor as he closed the space between him and his son, "What in the… How did… Why…"

"Easy there, detective," Dick chided.

As Dad wrapped his arms around Jim and patted his back, "Damn good to see you… And Maureen…" he moved and kissed her cheek. "To what do I owe the honor?"

Jim chose to sit to the left of Dad and I took the space on his right side for myself. As Dick and Maureen took the remaining seats, Jim responded, "Well, I just finished up a pretty big job and Maureen had some vacation time she needed to use up so we figured we'd spend some time on the east coast."

Dad smirked, "Well, you certainly picked Gotham's best month. March, nothing but rain one day and snow the next… and if you're lucky, both at the same time."

A waiter arrived and took our drink orders. Both of the Jim's ordered Guinness, Maureen and I chose water with lemon and Dick treated himself with root beer float.

Jim joked, "Easy there, Dick, don't you have to work later."

"I'll cut myself off at two... maybe three if I get a big meal. But after last night I think I deserve it."

Dad looked over at me, his eyes obviously asking if anything of the criminal element had taken place but I spoke to qualm his fears, "Trey and Shannon had their baby, Dad."

He leaned over to kiss my cheek, "Congratulations, god-mother."

I smiled, "Thanks, Dad, but really Dick was the one who did all of the work."

With confused looks coming over Jim and Maureen, my husband spoke, "Trey, my partner from when I was a detective, asked Babs and I to be the god parents for his baby that was born last night. Well, this morning actually. Trey was stuck in a hostage situation so I helped his wife deliver."

Maureen's face practically melted in joy, "That's wonderful… What was it?"

"Bouncing baby boy. Christopher Joshua Richardson," I answered. "I tried to get them to name him after me but they weren't too keen on Richard Richardson, I guess."

I pulled out my digital camera and queued up the photos I had taken of the proud parents, grandparents and godparents holding the tiny infant. After Dad looked through them he handed the camera to his son and said, "You two look like naturals with a baby."

After putting on a quick, fake smile, I replied, "Don't be subtle or anything, Dad."

"I know, I'm sorry… just would like to see a Gordon grandchild someday…"

Maureen had been sipping water when Dad had spoke and she began coughing and patting her chest. Jim set the camera down and asked, "You all right, Mo?"

She managed, "Sorry… I just…"

The table fell silent for a moment as we all stared at Maureen and Jim.

Dick, who had been raised by the most gentlemanly gentleman's gentleman, declared, "You're knocked up, aren't you?!"

^V^

"Mom, can I ask you something?"

I was sitting on Mattie's bed, skimming through her book report on "Shiloh" while she was touring her closet in search of an outfit to wear for school in the morning. After I put it back in her English binder, I replied, "Of course."

She emerged a moment later with a pair of dark jeans and a striped slate blue polo shirt in her arms. After she set her clothes out on her dresser, she turned to face me, chewing her lip before managing to form her worries into a question, "Why can't Terry sleep over anymore?"

Letting a low sigh out, I patted the bed beside me. After the events of New Year's, Bruce had put an end to co-ed sleepovers at Wayne Manor and had forbid Mattie to attend them anywhere else. I had managed to sneak her over to a slumber party Katarina had just before Valentine's Day but when Bruce eventually put two and two together he had been this side of furious with me.

I had tried to bring humor into our argument on the ride over to pick our daughter up, "Bruce, they're ten and eleven years old, they're not college frat boys."

"I don't which is worse," he had growled.

The anger he had felt must have become contagious because I had snapped back, "Well obviously the frat boys, roofies are hard to come by before going to middle school."

The look he had given me had caused me to flinch.

When we had finally arrived at Katarina's he spoke quietly, "She's your daughter, too. I shouldn't be the only one looking out for her, protecting her."

"Bruce, you're not protecting her by doing this. You're sheltering her, reining her in. If she has any chance at leading a somewhat normal existence, you need to let her live her life, not watch it pass by."

Two weeks later, Mattie went to a snow sledding party that was attended by both genders.

I watched as she put her binders and notebooks into her purple backpack. When she looked up to me for a reply, I spoke without thinking, "Your dad has a very strong imagination… he always sees the worst before he finds the best in situations."

She nodded and spoke, "Leslie says he's a worrier."

"He is… and he should be. A lot of bad things have happened to him in his life so it's… it's hard for him to expect good things to happen."

"But what's bad about having my best friend sleep over? He's been here a million times and hasn't done anything wrong…. It's not fair."

As I leaned over to kiss her mop of black wavy hair, I said, "I know, Mattie… I'll talk to him."

After a moment of silence, she sighed, "Well, I'm going to shower, are we still doing ice cream sundaes tonight?"

"Of course. Alfred said he was going to pass though so we'll have to make sure not to make a mess."

She rolled her eyes as she hopped off of the bed, "Please, Mom, I'm practically a chef."

Leaving her to clean up and change for bed, I walked down the long hall to Nathan's room. Bruce had been giving him a bath when Mattie and I had come upstairs after dinner and I suspected that my son was conning Bruce into playing in order to delay bedtime.

When I paused at the door, I leaned on the frame and looked in, somewhat surprised to see Nathan already fast asleep in his bed, right along with his father. Bruce had reclined beside him to read, a custom he had started when Mattie was still toddling about the Manor. The book was open in his lap, revealing colorful drawings of farm animals and a little boy with a magnifying glass.

Without waking Bruce, I lifted the book from his hands and smiled at the title: _Farmer Brown's Missing Straw Hat: A detective story for toddlers._

"Jackass…" I whispered.

After setting it back on the bookshelf, I pulled the covers up around my son before leaning in and biting the flesh of Bruce's earlobe.

"Ow," he whispered.

I let go and spoke into his ear, "Come on, sleeping beauty, we have ice cream sundaes to make."

Carefully, he rose from the bed, his eyes never leaving Nathan's still face. After shutting the lights off, Bruce followed me into the hallway but turned towards the master bedroom rather than the stairs. Before I could ask, he answered, "I'm going to change, be down in a minute."

Alone, I took the stairs two at a time, the patter of feline paws hot on my tail. Taffy leapt the last six steps to the ground floor, taking the lead before scampering out of sight. Although Isis had been gone for almost two years, I had not thought once about getting another cat. When Bruce had asked me why, I had explained, "If there's one that is meant to be with me, it will find me."

After turning the lights on in the kitchen, I spotted a trio of sundae glasses and silver spoons set out on navy blue napkins. There was small note to the left of the dishware and I read it with a smile: _Might I recommend the fresh raspberries and white chocolate?_

"Alfred, you read my mind…" I spoke aloud before making my way to the refrigerator.

Since Bruce had started radiation, Mattie had been very interested in making sure he was taken care of at home. In the beginning, we had explained that he needed to eat a lot of high calorie foods to help keep his body energized. She had then decided that every night during his therapy he had to have an extra special dessert.

She had even written it out as a prescription on a Post-it note.

I pulled out the carton of French Vanilla ice cream and set it out to warm up. Sure enough, a bowl of fresh, clean raspberries sat on a shelf in the fridge beside a bowl of shredded white chocolate. After placing them on the counter beside the ice cream, I went back to retrieve the whipped cream Alfred and Mattie had made earlier that evening.

As I went to retrieve a scoop for the ice cream, I heard Bruce's footsteps enter the kitchen. "Just in time," I commented as I dipped a finger into the whipped cream and offered it to him, "For a taste test…"

His Adam's apple bobbed twice before a smirk took over his lips. When he made no move for my extended finger, I shrugged, "You snooze, you lose," before licking my finger clean.

He cleared his throat before replying somewhat unsteadily, "I'm going to have to… take a rain check, Tim's downstairs, wants an extra set of eyes on some new evidence… for," I dipped my finger again and licked it clean, "The, uh… the… case."

I turned my back to him for a moment, "That's too bad…" but when I went to face him again he was gone. "Damn him," I smiled as I began to scoop ice cream for two.

I had just finished preparing my own dessert, heavy on the raspberries, when Mattie walked in wearing teal silk pajamas decorated with butterflies. Although when I had left her she had been in a somewhat good mood, she looked anything but. "What's wrong, Mattie?"

She sighed heavily before responding, "I was taking a shower, you know… and Dad… he didn't even knock, he just walked in and started talking to me about my book report… I barely had enough time to put a towel on… he just stood there looking at me…"

"I'm sorry, honey, I know he didn't mean to be rude…"

"Mom, I told him to get out and he was like… trying to say he wasn't bothered by nudity… what does that even mean?"

Fighting a smile, I managed, "Mattie, I think what he meant to say was that it's nothing to be embarrassed by… He's changed your diapers, bathed you, he knows every inch of you…"

"Well, okay, but I'm not a baby, Mom… I mean… It's not like I walk in on him in the shower."

I promised her that I would talk to him about that as well, knowing when Bruce finally came upstairs after working with Tim he was not going to want the earful coming his way. We ate in near silence and cleaned up afterwards with minimal words. When I offered to go upstairs to tuck her in and read with her, I expected her to decline.

Which made it all the more meaningful when she smiled and said, "Can we watch Sponge Bob instead?"

^V^

Whenever I had been faced with a seemingly impossible predicament, I always thought back to my sixth grade teacher, Ms. Volt. She was the first to introduce the "think outside of the box" ideology to me.

Surprising, considering she had been my Home Economics teacher.

At the time, my seemingly impossible predicament had been that my pizza dough always came out of the oven burnt to a crisp despite following the directions and recipe perfectly. When I asked what I was doing wrong, Ms. Volt had replied, "It's not what you're doing wrong, Tim. It's what you're not learning. You need to think outside of the box if you want to solve this pizza problem."

The next class, instead of setting the oven to the four hundred degrees called for in the recipe, I tried three-fifty and viola, perfect pizza.

If only my current dilemma was as simple as that had been.

Over the course of nearly three months, twenty-three criminals had been murdered. In a city as corrupt as Gotham, it barely made the front of the paper let alone the evening newscasts. There had been a slight incline in interest when one of the detectives on the case tried to get support for accusing me. But a brief midnight visit to Detective Raymond Bennett's Tri-corner apartment had put an end to his instigative investigation.

A smile came to my lips as I recalled crouching over his form as he trembled in bed, my gloved hand firmly sealing his mouth shut. The look in his eyes as I had growled, "I don't kill, Bennett. I do much worse. You know that. Or… would you care for a reminder?" had me fighting a grin for the rest of the night.

But unfortunately where the police force was no longer looking into Batman, Batman was looking into them. The printouts found with each body matched the exact wording on the criminal records of each victim. Bruce and I agreed a police officer, current or former, was a likely suspect, which fit the access to the records as well as the selection of victims and the lack of viable evidence at each scene.

Gotham City Police Department employed over thirty-eight thousand officers, and there were at least half that living in the city after ending their career, one way or another. It took a bit of leg work but Barbara had finally managed to hack into the police human resource files in order to access psychiatric evaluations that were mandatory before being hired.

We ended up with a list over a thousand names long that drew red flags as being possible homicidal maniacs.

Gotham's finest, indeed.

A few weeks ago, we finally narrowed it down to a group of twelve men that had shady alibis and even shadier reputations. I presented the case to Kelsey and Bryce at a late night rooftop meeting, hoping our ice-thin relationship would be able to survive my accusations. Naturally, Kelsey reamed into me, saying I was wasting time looking for a killer amongst her cops. After she had departed, Bryce scanned the dossiers we had on each suspect.

"It makes sense… in a nonsensical sort of way."

I had to admit, I was starting to like the guy.

With Jim Jr. and Maureen in town, Cass and I had joined them and Dick, Barbara and Jim Sr. for dinner. I hadn't seen the second half of Jim Squared since Dick and Barbara had their wedding and it was good to see nothing had changed. Well, aside from the fact that the former commissioner of Gotham City was now an expectant grandpa.

I was actually stunned, not so much at the idea of Jim and Maureen having a baby but that they were similar ages to Cass and I. On the ride back to the townhouse, my grip on the steering wheel had caused my knuckles to go white. Cass had the decency not to say anything aside from, "Do you have that Street Dogs CD in the stereo still?"

Upon arriving home, she had asked, "Want to run to the Sat-Cave?"

"Actually, I'm heading to the Bat-Cave… want to work some things over with Bruce."

"Oh…" she paused as if she was going to say something but instead leaned in and kissed my cheek, "Catch you later."

With the night reasonably dry and almost warm, I took the cycle up to Bristol. Although Bruce had been heavily involved with case work right after he had retired, over the course of four years he had slowly backed away, returning when we truly needed him. After the Matches Malone fiasco, I had expected him to be back to working with us every night of the week, somehow renewing is interest in the life he once lived.

Instead, I rarely heard him on the comm. link and whenever I checked in with Barbara, she hadn't heard from him either. I had brought it up to Dick once and he had chided, " I think his vigilante skills are focusing on keeping boys away from Mattie right now."

Then shortly after New Year's I found out what was keeping Bruce Wayne distracted.

Just as when he had been suffering before stepping down as Batman, Bruce had sheltered us from knowing about his troubles. I shouldn't have been as bothered as I was about being the last told about his cluster headaches but I couldn't help feeling left out of the loop. Again.

He had dropped by the townhouse one afternoon, just as I was getting home from the office. I had all intentions of a power nap before working out and warming up for patrols, of which was instantly kicked out of the door when Bruce had said softly, "We need to talk."

And talk we did.

"Where are we at?" Bruce's voice echoed in the Cave suddenly, disturbing a few dozen guano makers that had been perching above.

Glancing over my shoulder from the computer bay, I spotted him making his way down the granite steps, "Not very far. Bryce got me a copy of shift logs and work schedules that don't match the ones Barbara hacked into. There were a few schedule changes that involved three of our guys: Henry, Morganti and Talbert."

I handed Bruce the photocopies I had been given the night before, standing on the chilly terrace of the Bryce household. He scanned through the packets, finding the shift changes already denoted with an orange highlighter. "It brings Talbert to the top again… he switched six of his shifts on the nights of the murders…" he spoke, his voice a familiar combination between a growl and a whisper.

"But he has an alibi for the last two," I reminded him as I brought up the suspect bios we had been working on over the last few weeks.

"The MO was too exact to be a copycat… Damnit…"

I smirked, "I know, this case just gets worse and…" my words caught in my throat when I glanced over my shoulder at the papers in his hands, shocked to see a few droplets of blood. My eyes shot to his face just as he turned away, his free hand reaching up to pinch his nostrils shut. As I rose from my seat, Bruce had already taken a few strides and was headed towards the medical bay.

Knowing it was unnecessary and that it most likely earn me a grunted, "I'm fine," I followed him without hesitation. Without a word, he opened one of the drawers of the stainless steel portable cabinets and grabbed a handful of cotton four-by-fours before pressing them to his nose. I watched on as he sat on vacant gurney and leaned forward, allowing his chin to rest on his chest.

After three minutes of silence, he offered, "Started radiation again," as he changed the gauze with mastered ease.

"Ah."

I hadn't spoken with Bruce about his treatment since he had told me that he was starting it. Knowing full well Bruce wouldn't shell out all the details, it took an afternoon on WebMD to come to a full understanding about the illness as well as the treatment and side effects. I hadn't noticed anything different the last time he had gone through radiation but then again it wasn't like we were interacting on a daily basis.

Without any prompting, he continued, "I'll lose my hair this time, probably all of it… Selina found a good cover though… a children's cancer fundraiser… St. Baldrick's."

I smirked, trying to picture a shiny, Bruce Willis dome on Bruce. "I've heard about that… collect donations and get you head shaved on St. Patty's Day… Just in time I guess."

We fell silent again until his nosebleed had ceased. As he disposed of the soiled cotton and cleaned up, I heard soft footsteps cross the main floor of the Cave. Even with the basic lights on, Selina's form was dark as she made her way over, "Don't tell me he got the best of you, Bruce…"

"Funny," he growled as he turned to face her, "Just a nosebleed." A light flush had come to his face from holding his head down and a number of the scars on his face and neck stood out boldly in the fluorescent lighting.

I glanced away as Selina stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, "Poor thing…" and then she looked to me, "Tim, you can't strain the old man's brain like that anymore."

"My sincere apologies," I replied, somehow managing to keep my face solemn, despite the scowl Bruce shot at his wife.

Still grinning, Selina said, "Well, you enjoy your bouts of epistaxis and detective work, I'm going to bed."

"I'll be up soon," Bruce said, his voice less gravelly.

She laughed before walking away, "I've heard that one before."

I waited until we returned to the computer bay and when I was certain Selina was gone before I asked, "Is she ever nice?"

He replied quickly, "About eighteen minutes a day," and then smirked to himself.

"Hehe, when's that?"

He looked up at me and then directed his eyes back to the work schedules.

I suddenly realized what eighteen minutes a day Selina would be nice to Bruce and I couldn't help but snicker, "Never mind, I don't want to know."

From the stairs we both heard Selina, "Eighteen minutes?! Way to round up, Bruce!"

^V^


	23. What Lies Ahead: XXIII

Title: What Lies Ahead: XXIII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: Mother knows best.

Author's Note:

^V^

The second Sunday in May, I woke to a rough chin and soft lips pressing against my cheek. Without moving or even opening my eyes, I asked, "What happened to letting me sleep in."

"I have," he replied.

Trying to hide a smile, I sighed, "Is it after eight at least?"

"That it is," he answered as he began making his way down my neck one kiss at a time.

As stubble scratched my skin, I said, "If only your face was a smooth has your head…"

The lips that had just found my collarbone retreated suddenly as did the sand paper chin. When he looked up at me, his expression was somewhere between shocked and hurt.

An elaborate pout formed on my lips as my hand came up and caressed his hairless scalp, "What, too soon?"

Bruce sat up suddenly, his back facing me as he glared over his shoulder, the look on his face finally settling on hurt. I tried to undo my wrong by crawling over to him, "Oh, come on, I was kidding." When his expression didn't change, I kissed his chin but to no effect. Then I smacked him in the face with a pillow.

Instead of retaliating as I had expected him to, Bruce rose from the bed and walked across the vast room to the bathroom, shutting the door somewhat enthusiastically. Not wanting to admit I had pushed the envelope with him, I reclined back down and told no one, "Big, bald baby."

Although Bruce had been hair-free since March, he had only been headache free since April. Thankfully only two rounds of radiation had been necessary to eliminate the scar tissue that was affecting the nerves in his brain, thus putting an end to his cluster headaches. It was wonders what the absence of suffering, from both the headaches and the radiation treatments, had done for him. It was if he were ten years younger…

Except he was bald.

Although it had been two months since his last treatment in March, Dr. Ferarro had warned us that it would be at least six months before we saw new hair growth. She had also said that the new hair may be lighter and thinner and not all of it may grow back. For all of the changes Bruce had undergone as he had aged, he had always had a head full of thick hair. Although he didn't want to admit it, I knew he was upset about it.

Bruce emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, showered, shaved and dressed for the day. Traditionally, Mattie made Mother's Day breakfast for me of which was served to me in bed. The night before, Bruce had asked me what I had wanted Mattie to make and I had answered half asleep, "Dry martini… no olives."

Needless to say he was not impressed.

Alone, I took his pillow into my arms and dozed off for the better part of an hour. When the master bedroom door opened, fragrant aroma of mocha macciatto filled the room. I heard my husband's whispering voice, "No, Nathan, I'm carrying the tray…"

"Wanna do it, Daddy…"

"I know… maybe next year."

Keeping my eyes closed, I listened as Mattie climbed on the bed, giggling softly. When she had carefully crawled up next to me, I opened one of my eyes and smiled.

"Happy Mother's Day," she leaned in and kissed my cheek.

As Bruce held the breakfast tray well above toddler height, Nathan decided to give up and join us on the bed. He climbed on top of me before giving me a kiss on my other cheek. "Two for three," I smiled at Bruce as he set the tray beside Mattie. He hesitated, and then leaned in, kissing my lips quickly. "Thank you… And what is this?" I asked as I sat up in bed, Nathan still on my lap.

"We made breakfast… Well, I made it, Dad just carried it up. But Nathan helped me, he folded your napkin and he picked out the fruit."

Nathan grinned up at me with tiny white teeth, "Apples!"

After kissing his forehead, "I love apples, thank you…" There was a small bowl of yogurt beside a plate of sand dollar sized pancakes, fried cinnamon apples and turkey sausage. Nathan picked up one of the apples and held it to my lips. After I took a bite, I smiled, "Delicious."

Bruce cleared his throat, "Well, let's give Mom some time to eat…"

"Are we swimming this morning?" Mattie asked as she scooted off of the bed.

Bruce replied, "Sure… Well, it's Mom's day, I think she should decide what we do."

I was just taking a bite of the first pancake, so I chewed and swallowed before responding, "I'd love to go for a swim. Just give me a half hour."

At the prospect of time in the pool, Mattie bounded out of the room, no doubt already heading to her closet to pick out a bathing suit. Nathan seemed more interested in helping me eat. When he went to pick up another apple, I reminded him to use the utensils after wiping his hands clean.

"Apples ah yummy," he said quietly before stabbing one with a fork.

As he fed it to me, Bruce sat down on the bed with a soft look on his face. There were very few times where he seemed legitimately happy and looking upon our children was definitely one of them.

When Nathan selected the next apple, he offered it to Bruce, "Eat, Daddy."

"Oh, I'm not hungry, tiger… You eat it."

Nathan shook his head and gave me the fork, "Eat, Mommy."

As I said, "Thank you…" he tumbled off the bed and into the hallway, calling out his sister's name.

"I better go get him before he walks in on her and gets yelled at…" Bruce sighed as he rose from the bed.

I laughed thinking back to the previous night when Bruce had once again walked in on his daughter changing. Instead of coming to me as she had before, Mattie had instantly snapped at him before ordering him out of her room. Bruce had told me about the incident later that evening and I couldn't help but laugh, "Don't worry, Bruce, it won't be long before she's yelling all of the time."

Bruce returned a moment later, son in tow. As he sat down on the bed again, I asked, "So what's the plan?"

He shrugged, "Well, swimming apparently… but not much else, I'm afraid… aside from dinner at Epaule's at seven."

Nathan crawled over to me and asked, "Can I have cake?"

"A pancake?" I asked him with a smirk.

"Pancake," he mimicked before adding, "Pleeeease."

"Yes you may," I leaned forward and kissed the top of his head again as he selected a pancake. I then looked up to Bruce, "Well… Mattie has to go to Terry's around eleven so they can finish their social studies project… and I have to run an errand in the city at some point… should only take an hour or so."

"I can do it for you," he offered without hesitation. Although I felt Bruce had softened over the years we had been together, I was still put off when he was too nice.

"No, it's all right… I'll just go in to the city early and meet you for dinner."

There was a spark in his eye that told me his internal detective was on high alert given the lack of details I had offered. The soft look on his face hardened slightly as he began to ask, "Well, what is--."

I put a finger to his lips, "If you can go all day without asking about it, I'll tell you after dinner."

He grumbled to himself before saying, "Come on, tiger, let's get changed for the pool."

"Don't want floaties…" he looked up at his father, a hint of true defiance on his little features.

I couldn't help but smile as Bruce crouched before him, "It's either the floaties or the vest, tiger."

"No floaties… no vest," he replied as his hands landed firmly on his turtle pajama clad hips.

As Bruce's jaw dropped slightly, I laughed out loud, "Forget about Mattie yelling at you, Bruce, looks like Nathan's leading the rebellion."

^V^

"Dissolve as much salt in pure vinegar as will ferment and work clear. When the foam is discharged cork it up in a bottle…"

"Slow down, I can't type that fast," Terry said as he sat at the computer in the den of his house.

"Sorry… what did you get down?"

"Uh… _When the foam is_. What's after that?"

I dictated the remainder of the sentence a bit slower, "When the foam is discharged, cork it up in a bottle. A large spoonful of this in a gill of boiling water is efficient in cases of dysentery."

He shivered involuntarily, "Nasty."

"Right, glad we weren't on the Oregon Trail."

Our social studies group project was to help prepare for a trip out west by wagon. Terry and I had been assigned to look up medical treatments from that era and present them to the class. For school the next day, everyone would combine their efforts and our teacher would deem if we would survive the trek.

"What do we have left?" he asked as he reclined in the leather padded chair.

"Let me see," I scanned our notes we had taken in the library at school, doing my best to read his chicken scratch, "Chills, cough, camp fever and a toothache."

"More like headache… Want to take a break?"

I glanced at my watch just as it changed to twelve-thirty. Mom was coming to pick me up around one but usually if I wasn't ready to go, she was good about waiting. If it had been Dad though…

"Sure," I said as I stood fluidly, stretching my back a little since I had been sitting on the floor.

Terry rose as well and said, "I'm starving… did you eat lunch before coming over?"

When I shook my head no, he continued, "Me either… Let's see what we have."

As we traveled through the large, open rooms of the first floor of his house, I heard the voice of his older sister Allison growing louder and louder. When we passed through the open kitchen entrance, we found her sitting on the dark marble countertops talking on her cell phone. She was going to be sixteen in two weeks and I couldn't wait for her to get her license. Although she ignored Terry and his friends when she had company over, it was different when we were alone.

She reminded me of Cass, but instead of martial arts, Allison played field hockey.

"Yeah, but my dad's paying me so it's cool… right, I know… listen, I have to go… yeah call me later if you're going to the movies, I can never say no to Johnny Depp... All right, later, Hannah," after Allison hung up her phone and put it in her jeans pocket, she asked, "What's up?"

Terry shrugged and hopped up on the counter next to her, "Mattie and I were thinking it's lunch time."

Allison pulled back a long strand of chocolate colored hair, "How can you be hungry, I heard you guys in there talking about Scarlet Fever, gangrene… so gross," she caught me looking up at them on the counters and she patted the empty space beside her, "Come on up, Mattie. I won't tell."

Alfred never ever let me sit on the counters and as I climbed up to sit next to her, I couldn't help but smile.

"So what do you want? Dad and I are going grocery shopping tomorrow so I don't think we have much of anything here."

Terry shrugged, "Can we go down to the deli then?"

"You buying?" his older sister asked.

He smirked, "Sure, make the guy pay."

Since Terry lived closer to the civilized part of Bristol, we walked the mile into town and managed to get one of the outside tables. On the way, I used the cell phone Dad made me carry around to call Mom to tell her where I was and that I might need more time.

She had replied, "No problem, just call when you're ready, have fun."

We each ordered the same thing to drink, cherry lemonade, but got completely different things to eat. Allison had a turkey club sandwich with no tomatoes, Terry ordered the honey ham melt and I decided on the chicken salad wrap.

"So, when's Dad going to be home?" Terry asked with a spot of cheese on his lip.

Allison shrugged, "He said five but you know Dad."

I nodded alongside Terry, thinking that often times whenever my Dad said he was going to be home, I could add another hour and that would be when he actually arrived.

"Where is he?" I found myself asking.

Terry answered, "They had a big post-graduation picnic thing down at the college…" and then he looked to his sister, "We're still going to take flowers to Mom, right?"

Allison paused before saying, "If he gets home late, Aunt Carol said she would take us over."

It still made me sad every time I thought about Mrs. M. She had been so nice and so funny and it seemed impossible that she had been gone as along as she had. Despite the fact that I had been on the edge of starvation moments earlier, I had to force myself to eat the rest of my wrap.

After we got back to Terry's house, Allison went upstairs to talk on her phone, as always, and Terry and I returned to the den to finish typing up our remedies. After our treatments and cures were printed out on pale yellow sheets, we crumpled them up before flattening them out and putting them in a folder.

For authenticity.

Once we were done, we sat on the couch and debated over what Wii game to play. After my Rock pummeled his Scissors, he rolled off of the brown leather couch and put the Mario and Sonic Olympics in. As he checked the batteries in the motion sensor controllers, I noticed he lacked the usual excitement that playing video seemed to bring out in him.

When he had returned to the couch, I asked, "What's wrong?"

He shrugged and went about setting the game up by selecting characters and game modes, "Nothing, I'm fine."

I knew that whenever Dad said that, it meant he wasn't fine.

And that Mom always kept asking until she got an answer.

"You can tell me, Terry."

He set his controller down beside his leg and looked at me briefly. It was then I noticed how glassy his eyes were. Terry looked away and rubbed his eyes before saying, "A couple days ago… I found out how my mom died. Dad told me the truth... He's been lying all this time… Lying to me…"

"I thought it was an accident?" I said, trying not to think of all the times Dad had used that word to explain his scars.

He shook his head, biting his lip before saying, "Someone killed her, Mattie. She was coming home from work and someone grabbed her purse and… and they… they stabbed her. They killed her."

Tears began to spill over his cheeks and he stood and started to leave the room. I got up and followed him down the hall to the bathroom where he grabbed a handful of tissues and wiped his face before blowing his nose.

"Did they ever find who did it?" I asked as I sat on the edge of the porcelain tub.

He sat beside me, shaking his head, "Dad said they investigated for over a year but didn't find anybody… I think that's what makes it worse, who ever did it is still out there… he got away with it."

Seeing he was still upset, I decided to tell him something that I had kept secret, something that even my parents didn't know that I knew, "My dad's parents were killed by someone, too, when my dad was a little boy… Someone just robbed them and shot them, right in front of him. And they never caught him… I think… I think sometimes bad things happen to good people… To see if they're strong enough to do something about it, you know, to make a difference."

"How did your dad make a difference?"

I shrugged, "He helps run all those rehab centers and donates money to the cops and stuff… trying to use what he has for the people, to help protect them."

"I can't protect anybody… I can't even protect myself…" he sighed as he looked at me and I knew exactly what he was thinking about even though we had only talked about it twice since it happened.

When I had pretty much saved his life from the Niedzlekowski twins on he playground.

"Hey, I had help learning all that… Maybe Cass can teach you, too."

A fraction of a smile came to his face, "Would be nice not needing a bodyguard."

"Too bad we couldn't have done that for our project."

He finally laughed, "Right, Oregon Trail… ninja style."

^V^

The night before, I had looked straight at Batman's face and said, "You're wrong."

"Excuse me?" he had growled.

After I took my glasses off and rubbed my nose, I felt the exhaustion take over from monitoring patrols all night whilst researching the latest batch of suspects Tim had given me. All I had wanted was a back rub from Dick, a Dove chocolate fudge ice cream bar and eight hours of sleep. "You heard me… I've checked out ever single cop you've given me, none of them work out as the killer."

He then rumbled, "But in conjunction with one another, they were more than capable of working together."

I had sighed and turned back to the monitors, "Cass has staked out every one of their houses, has even gone inside, nothing points out that they've spent any of their evenings hunting down rehabilitated criminals."

Batman had glared down at me, his reflection on one of my monitors telling me he was getting cranky, "They're cops, they know how to cover their tracks."

Arguing with him had been pointless, especially since he as well as Bruce, were convinced a police officer was the killer they were after. It was a plausible theory but after five months of dead criminals turning up all over Gotham with their supposed crimes listed with them, it was time to move on to a new theory.

The suspects that we had originally narrowed it down to were accountable for a collection of the murder nights so Batman had moved onto a theory that they were collaborating their efforts to purge the streets of Gotham. But none of the officers in question were guilty of anything aside from edgy psychological profiles and a considerable lack of good deeds attached to their names.

Batman had even gone as far as playing the intimidation game, sneaking up on each of the men we were looking into in order to question them personally. Oliver Henry had pissed himself and cried for his mother when he found a dark looming figure waiting for him in his patrol car one evening. Jackson Morganti had fainted; landing face first into the recyclables he had been taking to the curb for his wife. Christian Talbert had managed to hold his ground but that had been liquid courage provided by spending a night at one of Gotham's strip clubs.

In our preliminary work, Tim had been fairly adamant about working it himself, not relying on Bruce once again. I had tried to say it was just using the resources available to him to help solve the case and he had glared at me before jumping out of the window.

Unfortunately for most of the investigation, Bruce's mind had been significantly elsewhere. Selina, the kids, his own health, he certainly had enough issues to deal with.

His last significant involvement in a case had been his undercover work as Matches to help us rein in the arsonist for hire Icarus. And we all knew how that had ended…

Bruce had only truly been involved with the current case since the end of March, as the side effects from his radiation treatments had worn off. On one hand, I had been glad to see Tim reach out to his mentor for help but on the other hand I had wondered what his involvement would lead to this time around. And as much as I loved seeing a humbled Bruce, I certainly didn't like seeing him in a gurney.

With the evening fast approaching, I was gearing myself up for another long night of a brooding Batman. Dick and I were on the big couch in the den, sharing a carafe of strong coffee and a plate of almond caramel cookies I had baked that afternoon. As Dick soared through the channels, I was half tempted to reach out and stun his wrist to force him to drop the remote.

Luckily, the phone rang and my husband was spared.

I picked up on the second ring after checking the Caller ID on the portable phone, "Hey, Dad."

"Uh… it's me, Barbara."

I smiled, realizing my error. I had only checked the name on the display, not the phone number: Gordon, James. Snapping my finger at Dick to turn the volume down on some reality show he had settled on, I proceeded, "What's up, Jim?"

"Not much, just got home from work… Listen, I wanted to run something by you, see if it's a good idea."

"Sure," I asked, trying to keep my voice even despite my growing curiosity.

"Well, Mo and I... we were thinking about moving to Gotham." I didn't realize I had gone silent until I heard him ask, "Barbara, you there?"

"Um yeah… sorry, Jim," I moved myself from the couch to my wheelchair before replying, "Well, I think it's a nice gesture… but, you really like Gotham that much?"

He sighed before responding, "It's no Windy City, sure but… I really think it's worth it. You know, to be with you and Dad… We lost so much time, Barbara, I don't think I can waste any more."

As I left the den, heading for the bedroom, I spoke quietly, "Understandable… what about Maureen?"

"She loves Gotham actually, I think it's the lore that she loves actually… Batman and all. Maybe Dad can pull some strings."

I couldn't help smirk, "Maybe…" I paused to close the door, "Dad called you didn't he?"

Jim took a long time to answer, "He's a stubborn man… I'd say a stubborn fool but I don't want to be grounded." Although he tried to put humor in his voice, it fell flat.

"He's only had the implant a few weeks… he just needs to give it more time."

Jim sighed, "Yeah… But he said he's never felt worse, Barbara."

"He's constantly exposed to radiation, he's not going to feel like sunshine and posies," I found myself snapping. I quickly apologized, "Sorry, I know he's not his best right now, I don't think any of us are."

He paused before saying, "Well… If he goes through with this… We'll move out, even before we get a house. I'm sure he wouldn't mind some company. Hell, even if it sticks with it, the least we can do is help, even if he doesn't want it."

I felt my throat tighten briefly, thinking about my visit with Dad earlier that day, his furious demands to be left alone despite the fact that he could barely get out of bed. "As you said, he's stubborn… and he still packs heat."

Jim's laugh was forced, "He'd never…"

"Maybe only a flesh wound," I also forced a chuckle.

When I hung up a few minutes later, I heard a knock on the door. I announced that he could enter and watched as Dick opened the door a crack and popped his head in, "I have a confession to make."

"I heard your breathing on the phone, Dick. Aren't supposed to be a detective?"

He smirked as he passed into the room and sat on the bed, "No, I'm the comic relief and part time decoy…" he patted the spot on the bed beside him and I pushed myself up to sit next to him.

"It was bad today?"

I nodded, "He's just miserable because he's sick. He's always been like that. When he was shot that last time… God, he was such a grouch."

Dick nodded as he reclined against a mountain of pillows. After I did the same, he slipped an arm around my neck, caressing the forearm on the other side with his fingertips, "He's stubborn… grouchy… refuses any form of help when he obviously needs it… he reminds me of Lex Luthor."

I looked over at him and he corrected himself, "Sorry, I meant Bruce. It's just so hard to keep them straight now that they look alike."

A real smile formed on my lips, "I wouldn't joke like that, you know Bruce hears everything."

"Oh I think I could take him. I'll just have to distract him first by setting Mattie up on a date with a varsity football player from high school."

^V^

World's greatest detective.

I put the title to shame.

Five months looking for answers in every corner of Gotham City and the solution had been sitting right in front of me the entire time.

Male, twenty-five to thirty-five, size eleven feet and at least six-three in height with considerable upper body strength. Strong background and experience in crime scene analysis in addition to access to criminal records. History of domestic violence with a weak psychological make up to lead to the desire to kill the reformed criminals.

But I had been right about it being a cop. And his shoe size.

I crouched on the edge of the Carter Business building across from Gotham Police Headquarters, watching below as reporters flooded the pale stone steps that lead to the main entrance. Commissioner Kelsey was trying to make her way down the steps along side the gaggle of attorneys that constantly tried to defend Gotham's finest from an array of troubles.

After adjusting my lenses, I was able to get a closer look at her face as she growled, "No damn comment!"

Two hours earlier I had hand delivered to her the man who had taken the lives of nearly fifty convicts.

I had been patrolling the city with a vengeance; disgusted with the lack of progress on a case I had been working on for nearly a half of a year. After taking out an illegal craps game outside of an illegal casino, I took a break a few blocks from the county jail.

Not ten minutes later, Batgirl had arrived, "Tired?"

I shook my head and glared down at the barred windows, wondering which one of them would be the next to be released and subsequently killed. At the office earlier that day, Will had joked that we should keep this killer around for the next Arkham break out. I had left the break room an returned to my office before punching my hand through a wall.

Shortly after, a newly framed Dick Tracy poster was up in my office.

As Batgirl squatted beside me, she sighed, fidgeted with her utility belt and then sighed again. We hadn't really been on the best of terms since early spring and as much as it hurt me to squabble with her and snap at her, I couldn't help it. It was if some demon had possessed me and all it wanted was for me to push everyone away.

Earlier that night, I had exorcised that demon.

I had skipped work in order to catch up on some rest and to go through new and old evidence alike. Anything that Bryce had offered me had helped narrow down my search but it hadn't offered a solution. I had everything memorized but I read every word on every page obsessively.

For no apparent reason, I had decided to work out of the townhouse, a big no-no in Bruce's book but I had the cover of working for a security firm where he had been a billionaire with a hell of a tennis game. As the late afternoon had approached, my eyes were grainy and my back ached from lack of activity. I began to replace the documents and charts in their appropriate files when I came upon a hand written letter in Cass's tiny penmanship.

I read it to myself: _Roses are red. Violets are (something that rhymes with him). I'm dying my hair blonde if you don't stop acting like him.._

When she walked in the door an hour later, I kissed her long enough to leave her gasping for air.

We had dinner on the back terrace that opened up from our meditation room. In light of our lack of ambition, we had ordered take out from the Japanese place a few blocks north. Over a few Dragon Rolls and a California Rolls, we didn't say a word to one another. Halfway through dinner, she kicked me sharply in the shin and I cried out, "What?"

"Stop brooding. I have dye upstairs."

"You do not…" I started. When she began to rise I put a hand on her wrist, "Okay, I believe you…"

I tried to form a light conversation but my mind refused to settle on simply enjoying time with Cass. It wondered in and out of the dark streets of Gotham and flipped through crime scene photos and mountains of useless paperwork.

To interrupt me again, Cass stabbed the back of my hand with her chopsticks, drawing a tiny droplet of blood.

I couldn't say who acted first but all I could manage to acknowledge was that as I flung a scrap of eel at her she was already hard at work smashing a handful of warm sticky rice in my face. When I tried to take hold of her, she leapt from the second floor terrace, landing effortlessly below on the small patch of grass we called the back yard.

After following suit, I managed to pin her with a very ungentlemanly tackle, kneeling on her upper arms as she looked up at me. "Is this Bruce-like?" I asked before licking my finger. Cass snarled at me and squirmed under the torturous Wet Willy despite the fact that if she had wanted to, she could have not only escaped but beaten me to death with her pinkie.

We called a truce and returned upstairs to clean up before heading out for patrols, resigning to the fact that the fun was over.

I still had the taste of rice and wasabi on my palate when she had joined me at the jail.

"In and out," she had said as she cracked her knuckles.

"What?" I asked quietly, my eyes never leaving the brick building.

"Always, criminals go in, criminals come out. The revolving door, right?"

"Hrm," I replied adjusting my weight back onto my heels as I prepared to stand.

Batgirl rose as well, her cape shifting in the breeze, touching my lower leg, "Hard to see them come and go, more work for us, for everyone."

"Someone's enjoying their work though," I commented.

"Probably because they don't enjoy their other job. Don't like playing secretary but I love kicking--."

"That's it…" I whispered.

Batgirl turned to face me, "What?"

"The criminals come and go, never learning their lesson, that's been his message all along, that to make things easier for everyone we should do away with them…"

"Right," she replied slowly.

"We've been looking at the wrong type of cop… over zealous patrolmen and detectives, those fired from the force for illegal behavior… He's not acting out, he's trying to help the city…" my voice faded as I glared down at the jail.

I was an idiot.

Oracle confirmed my suspicions and even an address of the man who we had been hunting for five months.

Watching Kelsey battle the reporters, I should have had a smile on my face. Instead, I fought with a scowl that had taken hold of me. For years I had been able to work though cases, eliminating suspects and eventually coming to the one… right alongside my mentor.

But even he had missed it.

I had confided in Cass after our suspect was arrested at his second floor apartment not ten blocks from the Clocktower, "How could we have missed it?"

She had shrugged, "Hard to see the big picture when you're only looking one direction."

"True but… How could Bruce have missed it?"

It had taken her a moment to form a reply, "It's not his responsibility anymore, it's yours."

It had been my responsibility.

All along, we should have been looking for: Male, forty-eight years old, size eleven feet and six-one in height with considerable upper body strength considering his age. Strong background and experience in crime scene analysis in addition to access to criminal records from fifteen years on the beat until being shot in the line of duty resulting in limited mobility in his left leg. History of being a stellar officer willing to do anything necessary to protect the city of Gotham.

Recent widower after his wife of twenty-four years was raped and murdered by ex-convict that was released on parole after serving a fifth of his sentence.

Corrections Officer and Supervisor of the Gotham County Jail, Louis "Big Louie" Archibald.

^V^

"O?"

"Yes, my love."

"So we ordered pizza, you know, to celebrate. Should be there in thirty minutes… can you cover it?"

"Did you order a four cheese and broccoli?"

"Yes, dear."

"Good boy."

At ten after one in the morning, we had decided to call it a night in order to have a caped crusader pow-wow in light of the most recent resident of the GCPD lock-up. I was the first one back to the Clocktower and as I snuck in a back window, I was met with the glorious aroma of melted cheese, heavenly marinara sauce and oodles and oodles of calories.

I removed my boots and began to sneak down the corridor towards the kitchen. As a single toe landed on the tiled floor Barbara called out from the den, "Don't even think about it, Richard."

"Damnit, I swear you have spider-senses," I muttered before retreating to the den. She had a laptop out, resting on an end table beside a lamp she had acquired on one of her infamous antiquing adventures. The thin screen showed a number of her Oracle windows up, a direct line to the main system that was hidden in the back. One of the larger windows showed Bruce sitting in the Cave dressed in a robe, his smooth head practically glowing in the dark. I felt a joke rising to my lips but I swallowed before saying, "Hear the good news?"

"News, yes, good, no," he replied. Without being asked to elaborate, he continued, "This is going to lead a massive internal affairs investigation, kicking hundreds of cops to the curbs, specifically the ones we wasted investigating… It's going to be a long summer."

"Hey, crooked cops on the streets… the only thing that will be different is that the city won't be signing their paychecks anymore."

Barbara and Bruce both stared at me with a stern look on their faces, freakishly similar to one another. Maybe I should have cracked a bald joke instead.

Bruce cleared his throat before glancing to his right, "Let me know, Barbara."

She smirked at the computer screen, "I will."

"Let him know what?" I asked as she lowered the laptop screen.

"If Jim and Maureen move out, he was going to look into having Wayne Tower renovated. Little project for Jim Jr."

I smirked as I sat beside her on the couch, "Poor bastard doesn't know what he's getting into."

We hadn't really spoken with one another since that evening when The Gordon of Chicago had called with his inquiries aside from the usual patrol chatter. As I had toured the city, I had a fairly good chunk of mind dedicated to the Gordon family. I could tell just from looking at my wife that if Jim Jr moved out here it would just further cement in her mind that her father was ill even more so than it already was.

Before we could resume our earlier conversation, I heard a window creak and we both looked over our shoulders to see Batgirl passing through the makeshift entrance. Smiling to myself, I couldn't help but think that was the infamous Barbara had told that the sewage soaked teen wonders had broken into her apartment on that dreadful horrific evening so long ago…

Batman was another six minutes and by the time he arrived the pizza had cooled to perfection. I chose to keep my Nigthwing suit on but had discarded my gloves and mask. Cass did the same but Tim chose to change in the training room, no doubt wanting the shed the shell of Batman for a while.

I knew the feeling all too well.

We ate vigorously for a few minutes before I said, "Well, then Cass really solved it."

Tim grinned, a sight I had missed for some time, "No, she… she was my muse."

"Muse?" she snapped as she reached over and stole the crust he hadn't finished.

"You inspired me solving the case."

"Oh I'll inspire you…" she smirked at him as he lifted a fresh slice piled with Canadian bacon, ground sausage and sliced onions to his lips. She reached out and snatched it from him, scraping off all of the toppings on to her own slice before giving it back to him.

Barbara laughed out loud before commenting, "Cass, one. Tim, zero."

I leaned back in my chair, recovering from a slice that had been dressed with a cayenne coated chicken, "She's got you there, Timmy."

"Fine… we both solved it. Teamwork."

He reached for another slice but Cass darted a hand out and snatched it up first.

Tim tried to give her a glare but he ended up breaking into a smile again, "Fine, it's all yours."

"Thank you," she said through a mouthful.

We debated over the logistics of the case for a bit more before realizing we didn't have to. It was done. The police had collected as much evidence as we had over the last few months, the suspect was in custody and had confessed, not that it was going to get him a lighter sentence. It was just around two-thirty before the pizza was gone and the conversation had run dry.

As Cass and Tim departed, I offered them my cycle for the ride home. Tim shook my hand after taking the keys, "Thanks for… putting up with me lately."

I had shrugged, "Eh, I've dealt with worse…" I then smirked and nodded my head back towards the dining room where Babs was already cleaning up.

Tim snickered softly but before I could join him, Barbara called out, "Excuse me!"

Tim laughed harder then clapped me on the back, "Good luck."

I swung an arm out to clock him in the kidney but he blocked it and went to retaliate.

Cass, who had been waiting down the hall out of sight, called out, "No rough housing!"

Tim and I both looked at each other, fear locked in our eyes.

We were doomed men.

Shortly after they left, Barbara and I were in the living room on the couch, just as we had started our evening. As she leaned into me, I kissed the top of her head and let out a long breath. I flipped on the TV to see an episode of Dirty Jobs was on. I was always tempted to write in and suggest masked vigilante as a dirty job…

A commercial break popped up shortly and I smiled to see it was one of my favorite household cleaning products. Not for its performance but for it's old jingle.

I sang the lyrics to the music, altering a few words, "Mr. Wayne gets rid of dirt and grime and grease in just a minute, Mr. Wayne is stronger longer because it has ultra power in it, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Wayne…"

From the still running laptop that sat on the end table, Bruce's voice growled lowly, "I heard that!"

^V^

"Are you happy?"

I shifted behind my wife and took a moment to form my answer, "I'm relatively healthy for probably the first time in my life. I'm naked in a hot tub with an equally naked wife. I have two healthy, beautiful albeit increasingly independent children. I just drank an imported thousand-dollar bottle of champagne… I'm miserable."

Selina reached back with a wet hand and slapped my cheek, "That's not what I meant."

We had spent nearly the entire day together, starting with breakfast in bed to playing with the kids in the pool right up until the afternoon when we had gone to pick Mattie up from Terry's. It was a rare occasion to have that amount of uninterrupted time with one another, of which I noted needed to change.

When the late afternoon arrived, Selina had taken the Jaguar into the city so she could run her mysterious errand. As promised, I did not inquire about it throughout the day. But she hadn't said anything about the kids asking her. When Mattie had asked, Selina had played it off to general curiosity that seemed to radiate in our daughter. But when Nathan had trotted up to her after lunch and has asked, "Whey you going, Mommy?", her suspicion flagged.

She had looked over at me as I skimmed the Sunday paper, ice in her eyes and a smirk on her lips. Selina had mouthed the word "jackass" to me and told our son to pick out a movie to watch for the afternoon.

I had left shortly after Salina had, taking the kids to the park in Bryanttown because it was smaller and easier to tour. That and it's crime rates were practically nonexistent given who some of the area residents were. I watched on as Mattie and Nathan played on the swings before taking on the castle-esque playground one obstacle at a time. A middle aged auburn haired woman sat beside me and smiled sweetly, "They yours?"

I nodded, "Yes, letting them burn off some steam."

"Same here," she pointed out a pair of boys, no older than Mattie, playing catcher and pitcher with a baseball and fairly worn gloves. "Must be hard, especially today…" she reached over and touched my forearm.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, without their mother being around…"

I shook my head, "Oh, no… their mother is… she's here in the city… running an errand."

The woman blushed, her fair skin stark against the color, "I'm so sorry, I just… the way you were looking at them it was… it was like they were all you had in the world."

Her embarrassment over taking her, the woman got up, apologized again and left.

With quite a bit of time until dinner, I had decided to give into Mattie's please for an ice cream cone from the stand located on the far side of the park. We had walked over together, Nathan sitting on my shoulders as Mattie tried to lengthen her stride to match mine. There was a short line ahead of us so when we were up both kids were more than ready.

"May I have a soft raspberry swirl, please," Mattie smiled sweetly with her hands behind her back.

"What about you, big guy," the young girl behind the stand asked.

Nathan asked, "O-ange bah," he waited a beat as he pointed at the picture of a Orange Cream-sicle on the exterior and then said, "Please."

As their orders were filled, the young girl looked up at me and I shook my head, "No thanks, I'm set."

"I have to say, your grandchildren have very good manners."

I felt my heart skip a few beats as Mattie explained, "Oh, he's our dad, he's just old."

After embarrassing the second person at the park in less than twenty minutes, I paid six times the cost of the two treats and then departed without another word. On the way back towards the playground and the bench I had been sitting on, Mattie said, "Dad, when's your hair coming back?"

I subconsciously adjusted the tweed flat cap on my head and replied, "Couple more months."

"Hope it's before winter, or you'll be cold."

"Yes, I will be."

She waited a moment before asking, "Dad, do you know how Terry's mom died?"

I was caught off guard by the topic change and replied, "An accident, I think."

Mattie took a few laps at her ice cream cone, "Yeah… But Terry's dad only told him that… someone killed her… with a knife."

I stopped dead in my tracks before looking down at her, not certain as to whether to elaborate on the details to help her understand or to deny them to shield her. I then thought back to Selina's words, telling me I shouldn't shelter her or she'd never have a normal life…

"Did Terry tell you that?"

She nodded, "Why did his dad lie to him?"

I continued walking and she was right there with me, her eyes alternating from my face to the path in front of us. Finally, I managed, "Sometimes… parents have to wait to tell their children things until they're older, so they can understand them better."

"Like sex?" she smirked.

I faked a smile despite the fact that hearing that word in her angelic voice nearly caused me to have stroke right then and there, "Yes, like… sex. And violence. War… But sometimes things that are more personal, about your family. Terry's dad did the right thing… lying for a while and then… telling Terry when he could understand what happened…"

We walked a while in silence before she asked, "Would you ever lie to me like that, Dad?"

Selina's fingers plucked a hair from one of my legs as they rested on either side of her, bringing my attention back to the present. With dinner running late, we hadn't made it back to the Manor until well-passed ten-thirty, leaving two very sleepy children that had to be carried to bed. After they were changed and tucked in, I changed into a robe and trotted down to the Cave to check up with Barbara.

While I had been dining with my family, Tim had cracked the case.

We talked briefly over the Oracom system and I promised to check in later that evening to see if they had come to any more conclusions after their… pizza party. As I passed back into the study through the clock, I found a sticky note on the hour hand that read: Who says cats and water don't mix?

I found her already in the hot tub; bare aside from the necklace I had given her at Christmas. She had a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and had already poured two glasses. Once I was in the water as well, she toasted, "To me."

"To you," I agreed.

After relaxing for a minute in the bubbling water, I drained my glass and set it down, "So."

"So," she replied.

"I didn't ask, now you have to tell."

"Please, you cheated, you had the kids ask…"

"Did not."

"Liar."

"Thie--," she didn't let me finish, her lips and teeth taking my mouth hostage.

Later, as we were pruning past the point of no return, she had asked if I was happy.

Still reclining against my chest, she started, "I had a secret stash in an airport storage place, in case I was in a jam or even needed to start things over. Spare clothes for a number of occasions, cash, jewels to pawn, fake ID, passports… and an extra suit." My fingers had been caressing up and down her arms but grew still as she continued, "When you were shot… before I found out about Mattie, I had gone to clear everything out, not sure if I could be a part of this city if you weren't…

"Needless to say, I didn't. I got there, opened my little locker and I just couldn't. It had been there for as long as I had been in Gotham… I had just added nicer things along the way. If I left, I wasn't leaving this city, I was leaving a part of me. And you. Us… And then I found out I was pregnant… and you were alive… Right then and there nothing else mattered."

I remained silent, allowing her to go on, "My entire life, I didn't need anyone… I didn't want anyone… Even when we started dating and you told me… I was still convinced it was just for fun, eventually the novelty would have worn off and we'd go back to fighting each other."

She moved slowly, turning to face me as she rested her hands on my chest, "But for once I was the liar… and you were the thief. I had been lying to myself and you had stolen that need for independence from me."

"Selina?"

As she shook her head, she stated, "Let me finish… For years I've tried to tell myself that I was cornered into quitting, not deliberately, but just everything that had happened and all at once… I do love that life, and everything it represented, I miss it more than I'll every truly be able to admit to myself and I think you feel the same…"

She looked into my eyes, "So what I'm getting at is… are _you_ happy?"

I nodded slowly. Sincerely.

I finally spoke, "Are you?"

She nodded slowly. Sincerely.

And replied, "Although I'll be happier when you look a little bit more like my husband and a lot less like a Charlie Brown."

I offered a smile, despite the bald jokes were starting to rub on me.

After brushing back a strand of damp hair, she admitted, "I went there today... I cleaned everything out. Hung the clothes up in the closet, hid the jewels in the safe, burnt the passports…"

"And the suit?" I found myself asking.

She grinned up at me, the same look she had ever given me while caught in the act, whether it be robbing Dahlia's Diamond or having my kitchen redecorated without my approval.

"You're a detective, you'll figure it out..."

^V^


	24. What Lies Ahead: XXIV

Title: What Lies Ahead: XXIV

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: Time changes everything.

Author's Note: I couldn't help myself, I really couldn't. The couch scene of Jim Gordon's POV is based on that seen on Friends. Bruce's fake phone conversation is that seen in American Psycho (Mmmmm murderous naked Christian Bale…)

^V^

Every day, two volunteers from one of the city's seven major hospitals were due at the Free Clinic at six in the morning.

Generally, we were given med students and residents but as long as they were able and somewhat willing, they were put to use. For years I had asked for more volunteers to help with the increasing flow of patients but they had deemed that two apiece had been plenty. I knew they briefly discussed it at their weekly meetings because I was sent copies of their minutes. The answer never changed, nor did the reasoning: lack of volunteers available at this time.

However in January, the minutes from the Mercy General board meeting had read: _Motion proposed by __**B. Wayne**__ to require all staff members to serve at least two hours of volunteer work at the Park Row Free Clinic each week in order to promote involvement in the community. Motion seconded by __**C. Nolan**__. __**Vote: 12 Y to 3 N**__. __**Motion carried**_.

That's my boy…

For over eight months I had more volunteers than I knew what to do with. Surgeons, physical therapists, receptionists, nurses, physician assistants, radiologists… The patients of the Clinic received for free what other Gothamites shelled out thousands for.

And it couldn't have happened at a better time…

I had just sat down to eat an orange while I reviewed the day's patient roster as well as to sign off on the volunteers who had checked in to work for the day. It was a little after eight and the muggy late summer air had yet to cool off for the night. Luckily, Bruce had the Clinic refurbished a few years back, with a new climate control system, insulation and roofing to help make the old building make it a few more years. He had offered to rebuild completely, to move the Clinic elsewhere but I had refused.

That was where Thomas had wanted it, so that was where it was going to stay.

Even with the boost in help, I still found myself staying at the Clinic well passed the witching hour despite the fact that the patients were in many pairs of good hands. For so long, I had practically lived out of my tiny office, usually spending the night on a cot I kept folded in my closet, clean scrubs taking the place of cotton pajamas.

"Leslie?" a soft voice came before a rap on my partially opened door.

I closed the chart on a fifteen-year-old mother of two who had come in for tubal ligation earlier that day. Looking up, I smiled warmly, "I thought you had headed home for the night..."

Dana Bryce walked in, her slender five-six frame still sporting the wrinkled smocks she had been wearing twelve hours earlier. The honey colored hair that had been in a pristine bun at the beginning of the day had been pulled back haphazardly into a ponytail. She kept threatening to chop her shoulder length hair but I doubted she could ever carry through.

"Tim called, he decided to go to the bachelor party for the paralegal working down at the office… So if you need me to do anything…"

After I rose from my chair, I walked over to her and set a thin hand on her shoulder, "I need you to take some time for yourself… If you spend all of your free time here you'll end up like me."

Dana smiled, "You say that as if it were a bad thing, Leslie."

After chatting a bit about some of her cases from the day, Dana finally excused herself, deciding a hot bath and the house to herself for the night wouldn't be too horrible. She had been working with me for almost four years now, her skills as a trauma surgeon had been demanded by the bigger hospitals but she had come to me first.

"My husband will make enough to keep a roof over our heads, " I recalled her saying at her initial interview, "I just want to help where I can."

Many young, bright doctors had that urge to do good within them but it tended to fade as the years passed. But Dana showed up religiously with a smile on her face, ready to face whatever stumbled or barged through the front door.

I had to admit, she had been a breath of fresh air for the Clinic. Dana exuded energy and hope that I also radiated, but perhaps not as much anymore. Luckily, she never allowed herself to be devoured by the pain and suffering of our patients, at least not to the extent where she showed it.

Everyone had secrets.

I found myself finishing the day's paperwork a little before eleven, coincidentally just as I began yawning. Aside from the regular collection of gun shot wounds, blunt traumas and stabbings we faced it had also been free child check up day, courtesy of the Wayne Foundation. With the inner city schools opening their doors that week, we offered an entire day devoted to checking young children for any health issues as well as to update any necessary vaccines before they started classes.

While Dana and the other staff members attended to the regular patients, I had overseen the volunteers checking over our little patients, a tedious but rewarding job. Almost as much as our bi-weekly blood drives which still had yet to be matched at any other function in the city.

It was nice to see that giving to the rougher communities of Gotham had finally encouraged them to give back.

After bidding farewell to the staff and volunteers, and checking up on a few of my own patients, I finally exited through the back door, glancing up at the heavens to see a few stars through the congested air. I couldn't count how many times he had been waiting for me, perched on some rooftop corner ready to escort me home from up above. I had told him religiously that it was unnecessary considering he had far more pertinent matters to handle.

But he never was one for listening to orders…

My escort had ended abruptly when the mask of the Batman had been passed down to Timothy, most likely because Bruce had never let on that part of his nightly patrol to his successor. Nevertheless, I still looked up every time I left the building.

I walked the handful of blocks home, not surprised to see that the lights were on. There was a Lincoln town car in the narrow driveway that sat between my house and the two-story duplex I offered regularly to families in need.

Passing through the side door, I was met with a collection of aromas ranging from garlic to asparagus as well as caramelizing onions and beef. Knowing there were only two other individuals with keys to my house, I was able to further narrow down the identity of my secret visitor knowing that Bruce would have burnt the kitchen down the second he started the stove.

As I walked into the kitchen I said, "Alfred, I thought you said something simple…"

"And simple it is, madam," he replied as he checked a boiling pot, "It's nothing more than meat and potatoes."

Although my kitchen was not of the caliber he was accustomed, Alfred had been able to prepare his "meat and potato" meal with no trouble. I spotted a small bowl of baked asparagus dressed with olive oil and minced garlic. Beside that was a beef tenderloin big enough to feed a family of five drizzled with sautéed onions and some sort of cream sauce. I watched as he dipped a serving fork into the bubbling water, checking to see if the red potatoes were cooked thoroughly.

"Alfred, you've really outdone yourself."

"You may think so at the moment but I fear I had to cheat on dessert."

I leaned against the counter and watched as he turned the gas stove off before taking the pot of water to the colander in the sink in order to drain the last part of the meal, "You, cheat? What, Mrs. Smith Apple Pie?"

He harrumphed as he slowly poured the contents of the pot into the strainer, "Heaven's no, that would be absurd… I meant to say is that I purchased organic raspberry ice cream from the farmer's market."

As he set the pot down back on the stovetop, he made a move to return to the sink. I stepped in front of him and kissed him quickly, "Thank you, Alfred."

"My pleasure, Leslie."

We sat to eat at the small kitchen table a few minutes later and as always our conversation started with the children. As I savored a mouthful of the Parmesan mashed potatoes, he said, "Master Bruce was able to convince Ms. Selina into not sending Master Nathan to kindergarten early."

After taking a sip of milk, I asked, "And how did he manage that? Selina had seemed pretty adamant about it the last time I spoke with her."

"The Wayne Foundation has donated five million dollars to the Preserve in order to develop a children's youth education and activity wildlife center."

"Well that would do it. Nathan is actually more than ready to go, I think."

"That he is, madam… However… I feel that Master Bruce has not yet been able to prepare himself to chaperone another field trip to the Gotham Zoo."

I laughed so hard I had to dab my eyes with my napkin. Once I had regained my breath, "And Mattie has a new horse?"

"Ah, yes, well unfortunately Miss Mattie has outgrown the mighty stead Rusty. Her instructor offered to trade the pony for one of the riding horses at the stable, so that Rusty would still be near by if Miss Mattie wanted to ride him once more... The new horse must stand almost six feet at the wither, solid black with a bit of white on his nose. He's a magnificent animal, I might say."

"Does he have a name?"

"Rhythm N Blues… Coltrane as he's affectionately known amongst his associates."

I hadn't been to any of Mattie's horse shows in nearly two years.

I hadn't even seen the children since the fourth of July dinner at the Manor.

Guilt settled in my stomach along with the fine meal Alfred had prepared as I thought on how I knew my patients better than Mattie and Nathan.

^V^

425 South Boulevard in Evanston, Illinois had been almost eight hundred miles west of Gotham City, or 798.32 miles when Barbara had shown it to me once on the Google Earth thing. However, 1258 Morgan-Tatley Lane was in the middle of the residential hubbub of Irving Grove, not ten miles from my house in Glendale. After being on the market for over three years, the recently remodeled three bedroom-two bath became the future home of Sarah Elizabeth Gordon.

Although I was growing to like the idea of my son and his girlfriend moving to Gotham, especially with the birth of my first grandchild mere months away, I was initially put off at the notion. As adamant that he was about moving to the east coast for more work, it didn't take a detective as seasoned as I to know Jim wanted to be closer to me.

Now that I was sick.

Despite waking every day in agony, I had stuck with the internal radiation treatments over the course of the summer months. In May, I had started with low dose implants, which had required a week of hospitalization. Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed many visitors and those who did visit were garbed in lead and could only stay thirty minutes a day.

Needless to say, I wasn't a very happy patient.

A month and a half later I went through the same treatment again, of which had done a remarkable job keeping the cancerous cells in my lung small and stationary. Jim had come all the way from Chicago to spend a half of an hour with me every day, but since Maureen was with child she was prohibited from seeing me.

Barbara, ever my voice of reason, would keep reminding me that each time could be the last. I tried to believe her but when late July came around and my doctor set me up for the high dose implants I found myself losing faith…

After a month since my most recent treatment, I was feeling a bit more like a human rather than a sloth. Luckily, Jim and Maureen were moving out just as the month of August came to a close, which was four weeks before my next scheduled treatment. I couldn't have imagined sitting in a hospital gurney sucking on Jell-o and ice cubes while they tried to settle in…

"All right, I've drawn a sketch on how we can get this couch upstairs," Dick's voice interrupted my wandering thoughts. Despite the fact that I had suggested movers versed in the art of transporting one's life from one home to the next, Dick, Tim and Will had volunteered to help out for the day. Their fee had been food and beer.

"Why is a couch going upstairs anyway?" Will asked as he ran a hand through sweat soaked hair. They had been unloading furniture from the U-haul since nine that morning and with noon approaching and only the couch and a few end tables left, they were all ready for a well-deserved lunch.

Jim, who had been taking long drags from a water bottle answered, "It's going in my office… So when the baby's up all night I can lock myself in and have something comfortable to sleep on."

Leaning against the frame of the front door, I said, "You're lucky Maureen's out shopping with Barbara and Selina. You might be sleeping on that couch sooner than you think…"

Although I only smirked at my comment, Dick and Will laughed out loud, Tim muttered to himself and Jim looked to me in disbelief, "Mo would never…"

"She's just getting into her third trimester, anything's possible now…" Dick started before looking to Tim, "Remember Selina, right before she had Mattie."

Tim snickered, "Bruce was practically cowering every waking moment…"

"All right, all right, I've been warned… let's get this damn thing upstairs so I'll have someplace to sleep tonight," Jim finally said. "So how did you figure this out, Dick, it's wider than the staircase and I don't know if it will make the turn up there…"

Dick smiled brilliantly, "Please… It's just going to take some maneuvering, but we'll get this bad boy up there. Tim, why don't you take the middle, Will on the end, and Jim… Jr up here," Dick pointed to the unmanned end of the couch.

My son shook his head, "Oh no, your plan, you lead."

Dick paused and looked over to me and I replied, "I'll hold the sketch."

On the count of three, the couch was lifted nearly effortlessly, Tim and Dick no doubt taking the brunt of it to make it easier for Will. They tilted the couch at an angle and started up the stairs, careful not to bump into the hand carved oak railings. Although in the way, there was a large post that stood at the corner were the stairs turned to the right. Had it not been there, the men could have easily just turned up the stairs, holding the couch above the railing.

Some maneuvering would be required, as Dick had noted.

"All right, turn… turn…" Dick commanded as they made their way up the first tier of steps. As he reached the flat, Will and Tim were pinned between the massive piece of furniture and the railing.

Tim stated the obvious, "I don't think it's going to turn anymore…"

Will added, "I just don't think it's going to fit…"

"First of all, that's what she said… secondly… Yeah it will, come on, up, up, up," Dick declared as he began lifting the couch above his head. As Tim and Will stepped under the couch in order to lift it, Dick continued, "Pivot, pivot, pivot!" He repeated the word each step he took, moving a fraction to the left every time.

Tim and Will did their best to follow suit but the couch quickly lodged itself between the bare white wall and the decorative beam that ran from the ground floor up to the second floor.

Anger in his eyes, Tim called out, "Shut up! Shut Up! Shut up!"

Realizing he may have pushed too hard, Dick said, "I don't think it's going to pivot anymore…"

Will glared up at his co-worker, "You think?"

"Let's take it back down and try again…" Dick sighed.

As they tried to force the couch back from where it came, Jim looked over to me, "He was a homicide detective?"

"One of the best," I smirked, "I guess that's why he didn't get into the furniture moving business.

It was another half-hour before they finally decided to dismantle the couch, taking the back and arms off before carrying up the pieces to the second floor room. Luckily, Maureen and the others had returned and Jim had been busy helping bring in the feast for the laborers. I wasn't sure what his reaction would have been but I'm sure it wouldn't have been a pretty sight.

I decided to check in on Frank quick before lunch, knowing he was probably still occupied sniffing every blade of grass in the small backyard. As I stepped through the back door and onto the patio, I found him on the warm stone floor, chasing invisible woodland critters in his sleep. Instead of disturbing him, I refilled his water bowl with the garden hose and quietly stepped back inside. The group had collected in the ktichen, which had been tastefully done, featuring light Corian countertops, stainless steel appliances and stained oak cabinets with frosted glass doors.

Selina was hard at work arranging a wide variety of sandwiches on a platter while Barbara and Maureen were putting bottles of beer in a bucket of ice. I spotted Mattie sitting on the counter near the sink, watching on with a smirk on her face.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" I asked as I approached her.

She nodded, "We got one of every sandwich, I don't think we can eat them all."

Barbara looked over her shoulder, "Dick and Tim are here… there won't be a scrap of lettuce leftover… Oh and Dad… I grabbed a cup of that potato and cheddar cream for you."

"Isn't it too hot for soup?" Mattie asked as she hopped off of the counter.

"Not if you let it cool down," Selina said, despite the fact that I hadn't even noticed she had been listening in.

The young girl shrugged and walked over to the table, eyeing the mountain of toasted and cold sandwiches. Before she could get any closer, her mother interjected, "Why don't you wash up and tell everyone lunch is ready."

With a sigh, she made her way out of the kitchen. I found myself asking, "And where are the Wayne men today?"

Selina popped open a bottle of Beck's and answered, "Oh, Bruce took Nathan to a baseball game… Figured he'd have more fun there than here."

"Who's that, Bruce or Nathan?" Jim asked with a smile.

We laughed together and I did my best to picture Bruce sporting a large foam "We're Number One" hand.

At the least, I was able to picture him enjoying an afternoon with his son.

Easy enough, considering I was doing the same.

^V^

"What should I wear?"

"Clothes," Tim replied as he lay out on the bed, eyes closed.

While he had spent his day helping Jim and Maureen move into their new townhouse, I had spent the day cleaning our house alongside Alfred. He came once a week to help make sure our "living environment was habitable". Although I never really liked to clean, I always liked spending time with Alfred, even if it was while he mumbled to himself about the dust on the TV screen.

Once our house was more like a home, Alfred stepped out for a bit to run some errands in town. I knew he probably meant visiting Leslie but I didn't let on. Alone, I spent the remainder of the day cleaning myself up. An hour of yoga centered me long enough to sit in a salon to get a haircut, facial, eyebrow wax and last but not least a manicure.

A complete waste of time, patience and money.

Tim's father had asked us out to dinner that night at a very nice restaurant in Midtown. I think Bruce owned it, actually. Tim had told me about it as we had sparred the week before and had suggested I "spruce up". I had looked down at myself, covered in sweat, hair mused beyond hope and not a particle of make up on my face.

With a smirk, I had asked, "What's not to like?" before throwing a roundhouse that sent him to the ground.

Coughing, he had looked up to me and said, "Please… just be girly for one night, I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Your Dad and Dana like me… just as I am… right?"

He had nodded; slowly sitting up while a hand probed his side.

"Nothing's broken," I said as I offered a hand to him. When he took it and stood, I continued, "Okay… I'll be… girly. But you owe me."

"Name it."

"Robbie."

"You sure?" he had asked, a smile forming on his lips.

One of our neighbors had adopted a young Boxer from a humane society but it was not getting along with her cats. Instead of returning it to the shelter, she had gone door to door almost a month earlier asking if there was anyone who would be interested in "a housebroken couch potato." I had seen both her and her son walk the handsome young dog on my morning runs and he always seemed to be having a good time with his tongue hanging out and his nub of a tail wiggling back and forth.

On one of my runs, I finally asked what his name was.

Her eight-year-old son had looked up at me answered, "Sugar Ray Robinson, but we call him Robbie for short."

It was meant to be.

"I'm sure."

We had gone the next day to offer a new home for the dog, bringing a box of fresh pastries from the French bakery a few blocks away. While we were formally being introduced to Robbie, of who had practically leapt into Tim's arms, Ronna and her husband Derek took a moment to drill us with a few questions.

"So… we don't se much of you two around… I mean… I don't mean to be nosy but you're more than welcome to join any of our barbeques, and of course Robbie's invited too."

I sat on the couch in their spacious living room, filled with family portraits of smiling faces. Tim roughed up the hair on Robbie's neck and replied, "Well, we both work quite a bit in the city."

"Oh, what do you do?" Derek had asked.

"We work at a security consultancy firm… I mainly run IT, work on camera systems and that sort of thing… Cass does everything from testing out installed systems to…"

He glanced at me and I finished, "Fixing the coffee machine."

After it was insisted that we join them the following weekend for a rib roast, Tim and I departed, Robbie trotting slowly on his leather lead between us. Earlier that day we had spent a small fortune at a pet store on food, a large crate and fleece bed in addition to bowls, toys and Snausages.

"Welcome home, buddy," Tim had said as we passed through the front door. As the dog carefully began to explore the ground floor, Tim commented, "Good thing the back yard is already fenced in… Not too keen on having to walk him in the middle of the night come December."

Luckily, he was already crate trained so that when we went on patrols, he would be able to sleep amidst his Nyla-bone collection. However, we had both decided that he would be able to come to work with us in order to better socialize him.

That and Frank certainly needed a canine companion.

I was standing in the middle of the walk-in closet that we shared, staring at the meager collection of dress clothes I had. Still undecided, I took a few strides back into the bedroom, smiling to see Tim still lying on the bed, Robbie snoring beside him.

"I thought you said he couldn't be on the bed."

Tim replied, "Well, only certain times."

After joining them on the bed, I sat beside Tim, reaching over him to stroke the dog's short coat. Robbie looked up with one eye then sighed as he returned to the difficult task of sleeping. When Dick had dropped by earlier that day to pick Tim up on the way to Jim and Maureen's, he had commented that he was a tall Frank right down the squished face and array of weird snorts and grumbles.

A moment later, he glanced at his watch and commented, "Well, I suggest you spin around the closet with your eyes closed and then stop and point at something."

"Scientific," I replied as I rose from the bed and returned once more to my daunting task.

Most girls debated over what to wear because they wanted to look good, but I just couldn't decide because I truly didn't know what looked good outside of running shorts and Kevlar.

Although the odds were in favor of something dark and boring, I had spun around three times and pointed out at a long, close fitting dress that was a pale cream color at the halter top and then faded to a dark chocolate color at the end of the skirt, which was just beyond my toes. I had yet to wear the sequin accented dress and as I pulled it off the hanger, I smiled to see the price tag was still on it.

Better late than never…

When I emerged again, I was dressed with my short hair up in a spiky bun and with a smudge of eye shadow and a dab of lipstick. Tim sat up on the bed and Robbie rose as well when I said, "Girly enough for you?"

Tim grinned as he stood and approached me, "Let me check…" he kissed me softly on the lips and pulled away, "Very girly."

After letting the dog out one last time, we set him up in the over sized dog crate with a handful of treats and a Kong toy that had a spoonful of peanut butter in it. Needless to say he didn't even look up as we headed out the door. Despite the traffic, we made it to Jovani's ten minutes late, which had been eight minutes earlier than Tim had predicted. When we stepped into the atrium of the restaurant, I caught a number of the waiting patrons staring at me, even more so when Tim helped me out of my coat.

After speaking with the hostess, we were lead into the expansive dining area. Tim leaned over and whispered into my ear, "Very, very girly."

Jack and Dana had already ordered wine and when we approached, Jack had been just pouring a glass for himself. He set the bottle down as he stood, "Tim, long time no see."

"Gee, thanks, Dad," Tim replied before nodding at him.

"And Cassandra, you look lovely," his father leaned in and kissed my cheek.

I stammered, "Uh, thank you."

Dana smiled as she refolded the napkin in her lap, "Did… you run into trouble on the way?"

Tim smirked as he held my chair for me. After I was seated he took the lone chair between myself and his father, "Just traffic, I promise."

With nearly every table in sight filled, I didn't expect to see a waiter anytime soon. But I had just reached for my water glass when a man who stepped off of a Calvin Klein billboard appeared to take our drink orders. Tim decided to stick with water and I followed his lead. After all, patrols were in two hours.

After learning the night's special hors d'oeuvres, Jack ordered Chicken Wellington for the table. Once we were alone, Tim's dad asked, "So, I see you've been busy."

Tim shot him a glare that I had seen him use to intimidate mob bosses. All he said was, "Dad."

Jack looked genuinely shocked for a moment before he corrected himself, "I… I meant the security firm… You guys were in the front page of the business section the other day."

I watched as Tim instantly relaxed, offering a loose smile as he sat back in his chair, "Well, this city needs a lot of help in the security department."

We chatted about the article until the puff pastry wrapped chicken morsels arrived. Then talk turned lighter, to how Jack had seen Bruce and the kids riding bikes at the park in Bristol the other day. There was a brief interruption when our dinner orders were taken but afterwards we somehow turned the talk back to work. I was fairly quiet, as I knew Tim and Jack rarely spent time together and I didn't want to interrupt.

Dana must have read my mind as she leaned over and set a hand on my forearm, "So, anything new with you, Cass?"

"Uh… we got a dog. Boxer, his name's Robbie." Although I smile don the outside, I cursed myself on the inside for sounding like a twelve-year old girl.

"How lovely, we'll have to come visit, that and Jack and I haven't seen the Townhouse in a while."

They hadn't been to see it since before we had moved in.

"Definitely," I replied.

A brief silence fell over the table and Tim sighed as he looked over at me. It was funny to see him so relaxed when later that night he would be pummeling scum without remorse.

"So," Jack began as he topped off his wine glass, "When are you two going to settle down?"

The relaxed expression I had just been admiring on Tim's face was washed away as the color fell from his cheeks and his jaw went slack.

No doubt a similar look was on my face.

^V^

I had finished taking care of dinner and had been preparing to make the first day of school lunches for Miss Mattie and Master Nathan. Where it was Master Nathan's last year in pre-school, it was Miss Mattie's final year in elementary school, a fact that had been plaguing her father for the better part of August.

He had confided in me earlier that evening as I had been preparing dinner, "Alfred… it seems like only yesterday she was the one in pre-school."

I had tried to ease his mind, "That it does, sir… It seems to me Miss Mattie has aged considerably in the last few years."

"Considerably…" he had muttered while staring at an untouched water glass.

"Might I suggest you cherish your young daughter now… while she's still young. And yours."

Master Bruce had smirked and said he was going to be outside to see if he could join in on Miss Mattie's solo soccer game.

Although Miss Mattie had been close to her cluster of friends for some time, it seemed that with each passing day she became even more devoted to them, spending most of the summer over night at sleepovers, camping trips and visiting the local shopping center and cinema. Add that to her riding lessons and shows, gymnastics and practices with Ms. Cassandra and her presence had been sorely missed for the summer months.

Most notably by her father.

And with school approaching, I feared my employer would only be that much more removed from his daughter's life. His wife often reminded him of their other child but as much as Master Bruce adored his young son, Miss Mattie was in fact, his "kitten."

As I went about putting a pot of water on to boil for my evening tea, I heard Ms. Kyle pass onto the tiled floor from the corridor, "Thought I might find you here."

I smiled and offered, "Tea, madam?"

"Delightful, Alfred." She leaned against the island counter and asked, "Alfred… Do you think Mattie is ready to know the truth?"

There was no need to clarify what the truth was for there was only one pertinent falsehood that Miss Mattie's parents had presented her. Since discovering how her beloved friend's mother had actually died, Miss Mattie had been carrying out a nonstop investigation into her family, reporting her findings and questions blatantly to her father.

The first had been the manner in which his parents had died, of which Master Bruce had originally explained as being an accident.

Then the scars that riddled his body, also an accident.

When she began inquiring about his seemingly endless list of former girlfriends, shady acquaintances and playboy lifestyle, Master Bruce had lost his temper for the first time with his daughter. Ms. Selina had replayed the events later that evening, after the children were abed and Master Bruce had secluded himself to the Cave.

"Alfred, he yelled at her… he… he told her that what had happened in the past was done with and there was no need for her to keep bringing it up… and when she started to ask why, he snapped… Enough, Mattie, this has gone on long enough… then he sent her to her room… She ran out with tears in her eyes…"

"Considering how he has always handled discussions with her in the past, it was no doubt a grave shock to the poor girl."

Ms. Selina had nodded, "I know… I went to yell at him but of course he stormed out and booked it for downstairs… Then I tried to talk to Mattie but she had locked herself in her room… can you…"

Without another word, I had gone up with chocolate milk and a plate of peanut butter cookies. I had expected to be turned away but Miss Mattie had eagerly accepted my company. Her eyes had been red and puffy but she did not shed a single tear in my presence. Although I did not prod her, Miss Mattie had disclosed her worries to me, nibbling on the cookies and taking small sips of milk in between words. When she was finished, I had said, "The reason your father, as well as your mother and even myself, have kept these things from you is that they were mistakes… mistakes that none of us wanted you to repeat."

She had smirked at me, "Don't worry, Alfred, I won't have a new girlfriend every other week."

The following few days had been tense in the Manor, with Master Bruce trying to apologize but his daughter refusing to hear of it. Finally, she took the higher ground and had told him, "Dad… it's okay to make mistakes… you should just tell people about them instead of lying."

I found Ms. Selina's emerald eyes on me, waiting for my answer.

After I prepared the teapot, I finally answered, "Master Dick was younger than she when he learned the truth. Now the circumstances were fairly different, considering that Master Dick wanted to seek justice for the murder of his parents… Telling Miss Mattie will have to be done to complete the relationship between father and daughter where as telling Master Dick had been done to begin the relationship between mentor and student."

"You think if he tells her, she'll want in on the family business."

Trying not to think of the glass case holding a pristine Robin's uniform, I replied, "Undoubtedly."

She had smirked, "Maybe I should tell her my secret, see if Bruce would rather have her follow his footsteps or mine."

Before I could reply, Miss Mattie walked into the kitchen, "Hey, Alfred, can I pack my lunch for tomorrow?"

I smiled softly, "But of course, young miss. You have free range of the kitchen," I added as I took the pot off of the stove just before it whistled. As I poured, I said, "Might I suggest the prosciutto. Fresh from the market this morning."

"Sounds tempting," Miss Mattie replied as she opened the refrigerator. After scanning the contents, she continued, "Then again… there's nothing like PB and bananas…"

As she continued to weigh her options, Ms. Selina carefully took her teacup in both hands and excused herself to check on Master Bruce and Nathan in the den. As I added a dollop of honey to my tea, I watched on in wonderment as Miss Mattie selected the necessary accoutrement for making her own lunch.

With the first day of school commencing in the morning, it had to be the perfect lunch.

"Have you decided?" I asked before taking a hesitant sip.

"I'm torn between prosciutto and the salami… Both?"

"It is a fairly simple solution for your dilemma."

As the young girl went about retrieving two slices of whole wheat bread from the drawer beside the stove, she asked, "Alfred, can I ask you a question?"

"I am all ears."

She paused setting the bread flat on the island counter before spreading a dollop of whipped dijon on each slice, "There's nothing left that Dad…? Like… there's nothing else left that's bad that I don't know about, right?"

"Well I'm certain there are a few things that can wait until you are a bit older."

"Like what?" she asked as she carefully arranged the thinly sliced meat.

"I'm afraid I couldn't say…"

She formed the sandwich and proceeded to cut it diagonally, "Did he even like all those girlfriends?"

"He may have liked them but he has loved no other as he loves your mother. That I promise you."

She wiped up the bit of crumbs she had made and threw them in the garbage, "Then why did he date them if he didn't love them?"

Although I felt it wasn't my place to define the playboy life that Master Bruce had masqueraded in as manner to protect his true existence, I did not want to put the child off any more than she already had, "Sometimes, young men with wealth often like to live on the edge before settling down… I believe Master Bruce simply was associating with that lot of people to feel normal, to feel as if he didn't have a care in the world."

"But Dad is normal."

"In a way, yes, but before he met your mother… he was very troubled, Miss Mattie. He had no true family of his own, no one for him to feel responsible for, and because of that--."

She finished, "He lived irresponsibly."

"Indeed…"

"Is that why he adopted Dick, to start a family?"

I smiled as she began wrapping her sandwich in wax paper, "I suppose in a way, yes… but also he felt akin to Master Dick…"

"Because his parents were killed too…" she finished for me once more.

Master Bruce may not have any desire for her to wear a mask but she was well on her way to earning one. I continued, "Yes… And it was because of his responsibility to Master Dick that he started to take care of not only his young ward but of himself as well."

"And then Mom came along, right?"

I did my best to redirect my mind from imagining Master Jason's sly smile, "Well after Master Dick was grown, yes. And with your mother came you and your brother…"

"Now he has to take care of all of us…" she said quietly. She didn't utter another word as she finished packing her thermal bag with fruit, a small bag of almonds in addition to a bottle of vitamin water and her back-up inhaler.

When she set it in the refrigerator for the night, she finally looked up at me, staring at me with eyes I had known far longer than she had been alive, "I can't help snooping on him… I don't want him to have to hide things from me… I can handle knowing the truth."

Ms. Selina had asked if her daughter was ready to learn the truth about her family.

I suddenly wondered if Master Bruce didn't tell her soon enough, just how long it would take the child to figure it out on her own.

^V^

"Can we get a dog?"

"You have a dog, my love."

"Big White Dog doesn't count… I want a real one."

Dick and I were in the kitchen at Maureen and Jim's preparing the first of many Gordon Family dinners. They had been in the city for almost a week and were nearly settled in. I had been spending my days helping set things up in the nursery with Maureen and then showing her the city. We had even gone to visit Bruce at Wayne Tower, of which had taken her breath away in more ways than one.

In true billionaire businessman form, Bruce had been chatting on the phone when we had passed into his office but there was a spark in his eye that told me no one was on the other end. We waited as he said, "Yes, always tip the stylist fifteen percent... Listen, John, I've gotta go, T. Boone Pickens just walked in… Just joking… No, don't tip the owner of the salon... Okay John? Right? Got it."

Since Nathan had been born on the day of our wedding, Bruce had unfortunately not hadn't exchanged more than a dozen words with her. Bruce was quick to put her at ease that if she or Jim needed anything, that he would be more than happy to help. Maureen joked that she could do without having to pay the mortgage and Bruce had pulled out his checkbook.

On our way out, Maureen had stammered, "I… I was joking Barbara… This… This isn't real is it?"

I looked at the check written to Mr. and Mrs. J. Gordon for $423,000 and said, "Well, I think you have to get married to cash it."

"Where's City Hall again?" she had laughed.

That same night, Jim had proposed to her, completely unaware of Bruce's gift.

Fate…

"Hey, quit pouting, start chopping," I said as I glanced at him over my shoulder.

After heaving a sigh, Dick began chopping Romaine lettuce mechanically. With him back on task, I checked the oven, nodding to see the breadsticks were browned to perfection. I removed them carefully and set them on the center island on a wooden cutting board. Dick looked up from his work and sniffed the air, "Those smell like the ones at…"

"Olive Garden, I know. Secret recipe, my ass," I smirked before transporting the steaming bread into a cloth lined basket. Once they were wrapped to stay warm, I looked up to see him ogling the basket, "Don't even think it."

"You know I don't think unless you tell me to," Dick smiled and began picking up the heaping pile of lettuce and putting into the large glass bowl that was already a quarter full with dressing, olives, diced tomatoes and onions and peppers. As he began to mix the ingredients with wooden spoons, "Did you steal this from Olive Garden, too?" I didn't answer him but he taste tested a dollop of the dressing, "Barbara… think you can hack into KFC sometime?"

"Maybe for your birthday."

I had him carry out the salad and breadsticks and I heard my father make the same observation as Dick from the dining room. As I carefully arranged fettuccini alfredo on five plates, Dick returned, "How is it coming along?"

"I think we're all set, the beef is just keeping warm on the stove… Here put a few pieces on each plate for me, I'm going to go wash up."

"Aye aye, Cap'n," he saluted as he uncovered the skillet filled with beef medallions, bits of spinach and a balsamic glaze. By the time I had returned, Dick had the dinner plates out on the table and I only had to pause to make sure he had turned the stove burner off.

When I entered the dining room, Dick was pouring wine and cold water with a linen napkin over his forearm. Dad laughed at him, "Do you have a part-time job you're not telling us about, Dick?"

I smiled as I made my way to the space beside Dick's empty chair. Dick poured a small glass of wine for myself and surprisingly into his own glass, "Where did you think dinner came from tonight?"

Once he had seated himself, he leaned in and kissed my cheek, "I love you, hacker wife."

"And I love you, circus freak."

We ate quietly for a while before Jim started, "Well, Mo and I were thinking about getting married after the baby's born…"

As her hand settled on the bump of her stomach, Maureen said, "I am not walking down the aisle in anything but a size five."

"But you were a seven before--," Jim started but she stabbed him in the arm with a butter knife. He adjusted his response, "You'll be a stunning bride, Mo."

"Damn straight, I will," she laughed and returned to cutting her pasta.

Dad coughed quietly and wiped his mouth, "Dinner is delicious, Barbara."

Jim and Maureen both nodded, distracted from their blissful taunting. Jim took a bite of beef and said, "You spoil us, sis, you really do."

"Oh no… I would have cooked the same dinner at home and then Dick would have just eaten it all by himself," I said as I patted his stomach. Dick pushed air into his abdomen to stick it out but my fingers were still met with rigid muscles beneath his dark dress shirt.

Jim smiled, "Bit of a glutton, eh?"

"Bit?" Dad said, "He cleans out the kitchen at the office every week."

Dick defended himself, "Oh please, Cass and Tim do their fair share of damage… they're the ones that clean out the candy machine anyway…"

"Cassandra? But she's so tiny…" Maureen said after she sipped water.

I nodded, "She lived with me for a while when she first moved to Gotham… the girl can certainly pack it away."

Jim asked, "So, how is she related, I mean, how did you meet her?"

I could have told the truth that she had been the daughter of an assassin and had been raised from birth to follow in his footsteps but after her first kill she had fled his control and had eventually made her way to Gotham during No Man's Land figuring that would be the last place on Earth for anyone to find her and that she had become one of my Eyes to keep track of the gang activity and when we had realized she had no speech skills aside from communicating in martial arts that we had taken her in to rehabilitate her as well as to allow her a safe place to live but her father ended up finding her anyway when he had been hired by Two-Face to kill my father but she had uttered her first word, "Stop!" and had awed her father to the point of distracting him so that Batman could intervene and from then on she had become part of our twisted Family, rising from the ranks to the former guise I had created and worn…

But instead I said, "Craig's List. I wanted a roommate when Dick moved to Bludhaven."

"You definitely lucked out, I used that to get roommates in college… Still convinced Edmund was a serial killer…" Jim smirked.

I noticed Dick jerk slightly at Jim's joke, knowing he was thinking about Gotham's latest predator. Due to what the GCPD had declared "a strong mental imbalance" the formal jailer was declared mentally incompetent and instead of facing hard time, he was transferred to Arkham interminably.

I still felt bad for the poor old guy.

"So, I think I have a job at Hubbard Interior," Jim changed the subject.

Dad finished chewing before he said, "Already?"

"I had an interview yesterday, they loved my portfolio… and they've been looking for someone with experience in the big field… I guess right now they have a lot of small-time people, a lot of them pretty recent grads."

Dick smirked, "Well, you know… I think DJG could use a makeover, what do you think, Jim?"

Dad smiled and cleared his throat, "Let me run it by Frank first. He's awful fond of that conference room carpet…" his words failed him as he stood slowly, his feet seemingly unsteady beneath him.

"Dad?" I said, trying to hide my concern.

"I'm fine… just… light headed."

Dick was on his feet in a heartbeat, "Here, Jim, let's get you anchored." But before he could help my father sit back down, his eyes had rolled back into his head and he was falling in slow motion. Thankfully, Dick dove over the chair that was in his way and caught him before he hit his head on the new Oak table.

Maureen cried out in shock and Jim rose to help but Dick had already laid Dad down flat on the carpet, his ear already pressed to the slowly moving chest as his fingers felt the carotid. I was already dialing for am ambulance when Dick said, "Vitals are sluggish… I think he just fainted."

If he had fainted, he would have regained consciousness on his own after a minute or after we had tried to wake him with smelling salts, cold water and patting his face.

But he was still unconscious when the paramedics arrived eleven minutes later.

^V^

"All right, tiger, tip your head back…"

Nathan growled as he splashed a rubber duck head-on with a plastic tiger. When I asked a second time he did so, baring his teeth at me. After I quickly, and carefully, rinsed his dark hair free of shampoo, he went back to the animal kingdom massacre at sea.

I gave him a few more minutes splashing water and bubbles before asking him to pull the stopper. As much as he loved playing in the tub, he was even more thrilled to watch the water go down the drain. While he laughed, I helped him out of the tub before wrapping an enormous blue towel around his little body.

Once he was sufficiently dry, we worked together to get dressed. Although he had mastered removing his clothes long ago, he was still getting the hang of putting them on. He was fairly good with putting on his underwear, pants and socks but he always seemed to get caught up with sleeves of his shirt or coat. Nathan stood before me carefully pulling on the little flannel pants I had laid out for him.

"Lots of fwoggies, Daddy…" he said as he pointed at the little frogs driving a variety of automobiles all over his pants.

"Look at all of them… can you count any of them?"

He got to nine before I covered his head with his shirt. After a moment he popped his head out and laughed at me, "Daddy you-ah silly."

"I'm silly? I'm silly?" I asked, fighting to keep my face straight, even though it was next to impossible anytime I looked him in the eye. I dove to my knees and pinned him down to the soft rug that covered the floor of his bathroom, tickling his bare sides relentlessly.

His giggles turned into uncontrollable laughter as I hunched over him and started kissing his stomach. Just as I went to start kissing and tickling his neck, Selina stepped into the room and asked, "What are you doing to him, I can hear him laughing from our room…"

Nathan lifted his arms towards his mother as he tried to crawl away, "Help me!" he managed through his giggles. I finally released him and he dashed out of the bathroom, his pajama shirt still only around his neck. As I sat up, I used the edge of the tub to get to my feet before walking over to her, "I have him bathed and half-dressed, you can finish dressing him and put him to bed."

The soft look that had been on Selina's face when she had appeared a moment earlier had vanished. She glanced over her shoulder to see Nathan already ripping his pajamas off as he jumped on the bed.

"Thanks, Bruce."

"Anything for you," I replied before kissing her cheek quickly. As we stepped into his bedroom, I asked, "Where's Mattie?"

"She's reading in her room… " Selina answered as she sat on the bed with Nathan, "All right, now what happened to the monkeys jumping on the bed, mister?"

Nathan stilled and said, "They fell off…"

"And?" Selina pressed.

He fell to a sit and looked up at her, "They hit they-uh heads."

After she leaned over and kissed his head, she said, "Exactly… Now let's get dressed, again, then Daddy's going to read to you."

As I skimmed the bookshelf for something soothing, Selina got Nathan back into his frog pajamas. I was about to ask if she was going to join us when the phone rang from down the hall. She ran out to get it and I took her spot on the bed.

"Ready for school tomorrow?" I asked as he tucked himself in under the covers.

"Yep… I like the new playgwound."

Over the summer, the school had renovated the pre-school play area so it had been unavailable to visit. Nathan, who was nearly obsessed with the twirly slide, had been fairly upset about it and asked nearly every day to go play there. Although he eventually learned to love the Bristol park as well as the one in Bryanttown, I could tell it just wasn't the same for him.

"It is a great playground, isn't it?" I leaned over and wrapped an arm around his back, "All right, let's see, this is the story telling book… so I want you to tell me what the story is."

It was one of a collection of picture books with absolutely no narrative of any kind. Either parents or children could tell the story just from the images. Nathan and I had gone through all twelve books a number of times and his stories constantly evolved.

Just as he began to introduce me to Larry the dog, Harry the cat and Mr. Bob the bird, Selina appeared in the doorway, something in her face that caused my heart rate to double. I rose from the bed after kissing Nathan's forehead, "Keep reading, tiger, remember practice those colors…" As I approached Selina, she backed into the hallway and I finally recognized that her eyes were glassy. "What's happened?" I asked, my voice somewhere between a growl and whisper.

"They were having dinner at Jim Jr. and Maureen's and… Jim collapsed… They have him at Gotham General… He's stable but… If you want to go down now, I'll get them tucked in and…"

I shook my head, "No… I can stay and… then we can go…"

It took another half-hour to get Nathan down for the night and when we checked in on Mattie, she was already asleep, the buds of her iPod in her ears. After telling Alfred where we were going, we headed for the garage. In all interests of making it there in short time, I took the Aston Martin.

For thirty minutes, I focused on the road in front of me and Selina's hand on mine.

Upon arriving at the massive medical complex, I made haste for the reception area of the Emergency Room. After being ignored by a nurse chatting on the phone for nearly three minutes, I simply scanned the in-patient erase board. Gordon, J.W. was crossed out and beside his name "trans to onc" was written in orange marker.

As we waited for an elevator to take us to the third floor Oncology Department, Selina looked up at me, her fingers lacing with mine, "Bruce, I…"

The doors opened and although the car emptied quickly after we stepped in, another six people clad in scrubs and white coats joined us. We stopped at the second floor where three doctors stepped off and another four got on. When we made it to the third floor, I brushed passed those in the way, never letting go of Selina's hand.

One doctor said, "Jerk," while his companion said, "Wasn't that Bruce Wayne?"

There was no one at the reception for Oncology but I spotted Dick eyeing the soda machine in the waiting area. Making my footfalls uncharacteristically loud, he glanced up at us and offered a weak smile.

"How is he?" I asked, my words rushed and out of breath for some reason.

"Okay… he was pretty dehydrated… and apparently he had the beginnings of a pleural effusion… but the drained the fluid that was started to surround his lungs so he feels a little better."

"Is Barbara with him?" Selina asked.

He shook his head, "She's talking with his radiologist down the hall," he glanced over his shoulder but when he didn't see any sign of her, he added, "She's pretty shaken up. Jim Jr. too… he went to take Maureen home so she could rest… Cass is going to check in on her later tonight…"

I asked, "Why are you out here?"

Dick paused before explaining, "He wanted me to send you in when you got here… Just you."

After he pointed out which room was Jim's, I stepped through the swinging door silently. As I approached the gurney, I assumed the figure in it was sleeping but when his eyes flashed open, he smirked, "You really need to stop that sneaking around crap… get your self shot one of these days."

He had uttered the very same line to me on several occasions and I offered a fraction of a smile as I sat in the chair beside him, "Too late."

Jim cleared his throat and activated the remote for the bed, raising himself to a near sitting position. He muttered, "I hate hospitals. Probably almost as much as you do. Almost…"

When I didn't say anything, he continued, "I remember every time I ever found you injured… near dead in some cases… you always said the same thing… No hospital. Every single time. Then when Pasqualle shot you… you didn't say anything. If Robin and Batgirl hadn't been there, you're damn sure I would have taken your ass to Mercy… Identity be damned… You never were one for knowing what was best for you… at least back then anyway."

I nodded, the both of us knowing how that night had changed me.

Had changed the both of us.

"Well, I guess that's why we've been friends all this time, so much in common… Stubborn as all hell, committed to saving a city that didn't want to be saved… and neither one of us likes hospitals."

On some level, I knew what he was about to tell me, but that didn't make it any easier to hear.

"I have one more radiation treatment… before Sarah is born. After that, no more hospitals. I don't think there's anything left to see in this damn world after I've seen a grandchild born."

"What about that grandchild growing up?"

Jim shook his head, "Don't you even… You better than anyone know what I'm going through. Walking death it is… I can't tell you how glad I am that you finally decided to take care of yourself… so you could live your life rather than suffer through it."

"What about you, Jim, your life, you can't give up now…"

Jim smirked, his gray moustache twitching slightly, "I've lived my life, Bruce, and I'm damn proud to have lived most of it at your side. But I'm not giving up on it, I… I just want to be able to enjoy what life I have left. And sitting here for treatments with your loved ones only able to see you while wearing a lead cape… Barely able to keep your eyes open unless your guts are heaving back and forth… That's not living, that's dying."

"Jim…" I found myself without words.

He smiled again, the certainty in his eyes almost frightening, "I know…"

Just as I didn't need to say it, he didn't need to hear it.

He knew.

^V^


	25. What Lies Ahead: XXV

Title: What Lies Ahead: XXV

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: The Family changes forever… in more way than one.

Author's Note:

^V^

_In loving memory of Sgt. B.L. Consler, USMC Ret._

_July 4, 1983-September 17, 2008_

_For B-Rad, I know you're rocking the Hell out of Heaven…_

^V^

I had stared down sociopaths.

"Frank, sit."

Murderers.

"Frank, sit."

Rapists.

"Frank… sit."

"That is one finely trained animal, Jim," Dick smirked as he peered over the edge of the table.

Even though Frank had not even thought about sitting, I gave him a scrap of dark turkey meat. As I wiped my hand on the linen napkin in my lap I replied, "That he is… when I give the command for attack he… ahem… he answers the door."

Frank proceeded to resume his coughing fit, his own unique variation of begging. When I told him to go lie down, he looked up at me, blinked twice then about faced and began begging from Dick.

Since before Bruce and Selina were married, I, as well as Barbara, had attended Wayne Manor for Alfred's masterfully performed Thanksgiving dinners. Before then, Barbara and I would share dinner together at the Clocktower… that was as long as Gotham could behave herself for one night. On those nights, I found myself picking through the dinner that those on call at headquarters had whipped together.

With my entire family finally residing within the Gotham City limits, I decided it was time to have a Gordon Thanksgiving dinner. Barbara and Dick offered to cook and Jim and Maureen offered to host while I offered my babysitting services.

Born two days before her due date, Sarah Elizabeth Gordon came into the world with wisps of caramel hair, shimmering blue eyes and lungs filled with piercing cries. Although my son had offered to have me in the delivery room, I had replied, "Once is enough for me."

Mother and daughter were released two days later and arrived home to countless pink balloons, stuffed animals and smiling faces. I couldn't help but think of when Nathan had come home from the hospital, the relief we all had felt after enduring two months of worry. But with Sarah, there hadn't been a concern in sight as she had been born ready to take the world on.

A true Gordon.

Just over a month old, she was still as loud as the day she was born. Poor Maureen tried to pretend it didn't bother her but I could see her nerves rattle with every approaching diaper change and feeding. As we sat in their living room, Jim walking around patting his daughter's back gently, Maureen had asked, "Was Jim bad?"

I shook my head, "Not at all… Of course, when his mother wasn't looking I'd give him some Bailey's in his bottle."

Jim had laughed, "No wonder I love Irish Coffee."

I had to admit, as much as I enjoyed spending time with Bruce and the Family, it was nice to have dinner with just us for the first time.

And the last…

After ending my radiation a few months earlier, I had certainly been able to reap the benefits of not having the side effects from the treatment. I was filled with energy after only two weeks and quickly returned to working almost every day. Also, I was finally able to resume my thrice daily walks with Frank, of which I had missed significantly.

But the honeymoon didn't last long.

Without the radiation maintaining the cancerous cells, they had quickly spread to my lymph nodes and had recently invaded my liver. With Barbara constantly after me to resume treatment, I appeased her as much as I could by still seeing a respiration therapist and by using oxygen as much as possible. Also, at her request and practical threat, I went in weekly to have my pleural cavity drained of fluids, of which required a permanent chest tube that was inserted a few inches below my arm pit.

My last appointment had been with my original oncologist, Dr. Haines. He had done a CT scan of me from head to toe, in order to ascertain the progression of the metastasis. Once the monstrous machine had examined me, he came into the room and helped me off of the narrow bed.

"Well?" I asked.

The look on his face answered my question before words came to his lips.

I decided not to update anyone, not wanting them to fuss over me anymore than they already had been. It was bad enough that Barbara practically lived at the house with me, leaving nights that I was well enough to be alone in order to help save Gotham. I knew it was lying and I knew it was wrong but I couldn't stand the "walking dead" look they tried to hide from their faces…

Another pair of faces that were also absent from the Thanksgiving feast at Wayne Manor were those of Tim and Cassandra. From what Dick had said, they had voluntarily opted to join Jack and Dana Drake for dinner. I knew well enough that Tim and his father weren't close but even still it was good to see the young man reaching out to his father.

With Dick joining us for dinner, it left only Bruce, Selina, the children and of course Alfred to spend the evening together. As a result, Alfred had arranged a Thanksgiving brunch to allow the Family to celebrate together as a whole. When Barbara had extended an invitation to me the week before, she had quoted the gentleman's gentleman as saying, "After finally getting Master Bruce to enjoy family gatherings, far be it for me to see him miss out on a single one due to a conflict in schedules."

Despite the dreary week that had preceded Thanksgiving, that Thursday had seen a cloudless sky and a high of forty degrees. Although brunch was scheduled for ten in the morning, I had ridden up an hour early with Barbara and Dick. Jim and Maureen had chosen to sit this one out in order to tend to their little bundle of screaming infant joy.

A bit brisk when we first arrived, we gathered in the main den of Wayne Manor with Selina as well as Tim and Cassandra. Mattie was reportedly helping Alfred in the kitchen and Bruce was trying to tire Nathan out in the back yard. After taking a cup of coffee and a small croissant, I excused myself and began to wander the ground floor. By the time I had reached the wrought iron and glass doors that lead to the rear patio, the coffee and baked treat was gone.

Over the last few years, I had associated the patio not with the summer dinners or birthday parties held at the Manor. Instead, my mind always went back to Bruce sitting on a chair, staring off into the distance… not an hour after I had punched him square in the jaw. It seemed like ancient history, accusing him of sleeping with another woman while seeing my daughter. Of Dick arriving at the restaurant, corralling myself and a very pissed off and pregnant Selina into his squad car.

Of Dick apologizing for lying to me, for telling me that Batman had died.

Ancient history…

I paused before stepping out of the warmth of the house, scanning the vast open space for any sign of father and son. I felt myself smirking as I finally saw the little boy race by, his arms locked firmly around a football. Mere feet behind him, his father jogged counting down the yards to an invisible touchdown. Bruce had never been one for sports outside of randomly visiting private boxes held in his name for nearly every event in Gotham. But from what I had seen for myself and from my daughter's reporting, Nathan had taken to the idea of athletics on his own.

After brunch, I asked Nathan what he wanted to be when he grew up and he proudly declared, "Showt-stop."

Dick walked by and planted a hand on his much younger sibling's head, "Well, you're already short, now you just have to be able to stop."

As I watched the sibling squabble begin, I hoped silently that Dick would show his own children such love.

Someday…

^V^

"I think I OD'd today…"

Batman remained motionless for a moment, then adjusted his binoculars as he focused them on a filmy window across the street, "On what?"

"Everything," I said, just short of moaning. "Babs made this unbelievable stuffing… and then the sweet potato… And I had a whole turkey leg… and breast," I stifled a yawn, "Turkey always kills me."

He seemed to ignore me but actually responded, "I had ham."

I mocked him silently, and then said, "Who has ham on Thanksgiving?"

Batman returned his binoculars to his belt before rising to his full height, "People who have to be up all night."

Although he and Cass has celebrated Thanksgiving dinner with his father and step-mother, he had confessed that afterwards they had gone to Wayne Manor to gorge themselves on fine cuisine. I had laughed when he had told me and he had snapped, "It's not funny… how do you ruin sweet potatoes?"

As he began to walk to the roof's edge, I said, "Still… ham? I mean, I know Al makes a mean honey roast but it's nothing considering what the man can do with a bird… Did he put those little white booties on it?" He nodded and touched the side of his cowl, no doubt checking in on any police reports. I sighed, "I love the booties."

My comm. link sounded, "That's good to know, dear."

"No... I meant… not those booties… your bootie… my love," I tried to cover to my wife.

Even from a few yards I saw the corner of Batman's lips twitch upwards. Without a moment's hesitation, he leapt off of the building, arcing the jump by holding his cape taut. The goons in the building across the street had been packing drugs into down comforters and pillows for the last half hour.

"It's been quiet, I think I'm going to go back over to Dad's, stay the night."

"Is he okay?"

She paused, "Yeah but… I just… I just feel like I need to be with him right now."

Nodding, I thought about the conversation she and I had the other day. While we sat on the couch sharing hot cocoa and brownies, she had asked if I would have wanted to know that my parents were going to die.

Not exactly cuddly, couch, cocoa conversation.

I had thought for a minute before answering, "In a way, it would have been nice to have been able to say good bye and that I loved them and that I was sorry for using my dad's moustache comb on the elephant's tail…" a fraction of a smile came to her lips as I continued, "But I don't know… I think, I think knowing would be worse."

Barbara had gently set the mug down on a coaster before nodding, "It is…"

Although Jim was still fairing pretty well, without treatment it was only a matter of months, maybe even weeks before the cancer claimed him. Since we had found out he was sick, I had done my best to keep up on symptoms, stages, treatments… somehow trying to tame my fears by focusing my mind elsewhere. Unfortunately, once the cancerous tissue reached his vital organs, there wasn't much to do aside form keeping comfortable and hydrated.

From my vantage point, I spotted Batman giving me the slight signal to join him.

My smile was much strong than my ally's, "Babs, I got to go, pillow fight!"

She told me to have fun before signing off. Instead of taking two seconds to put on my air mask, I decided to do it mid-air as after leaping from the rooftop. Once the task was complete, I had just enough time to tuck and roll before firing a grapple to the drug pillow factory. Upon landing on my feet on the top tier of the fire escape, I contacted Batman who had planned to move in from the opposite side of the building, "Ready when you are."

"Not going to fall asleep on one of these pillows are you?" he asked, a tiny fraction of humor rising from the deep gravel of his voice.

"Tempting… but I prefer one-hundred percent down… not fifty-fifty between down and Columbian cocaine," I joked as I made my way towards a window. There were eleven men inside, only three of them armed with guns. Even after all of these years, it still amazed me that criminals flocked to Gotham. They clearly lacked any and all forms of self-preservation instincts.

I was about to ask him if he wanted to take the honor of going in first but as I activated the comm. link, I heard the shatter of glass from inside the building. I let Batman have a moment in the spotlight before following suit; only I carefully and quietly opened the window before leaping down on top of Bad Guy 7.

Most scuffles lasted a good ten minutes, especially those with firearms. Sometimes you'd even take a hit or two just to help boost their self-esteem… right before you knocked them on their ass. Rarely did anyone who walked in with a cape walked out with an injury, with exception to those infamous lucky shots we all knew too well.

But when all eleven men were on the ground squirming and moaning in less than five minutes, I had to remark, "World Record?"

Batman began cuffing the men together, once again seemingly ignoring me. Deep down I knew Tim wasn't truly intending most of his actions when he wore the cowl. Batman was not witty, Batman was not chatty and Batman certainly was not a smiler.

After radioing in our location, I followed him back to the rooftop we had started out on. As we watched the police arrive, he finally commented, "I watched him take down thirteen armed men in four and a half minutes once."

"Damn… that will be a tough one to beat," I smiled at him.

He nodded, his posture relaxing just slightly. He then looked at me, speaking in the voice of Tim Drake, "Oracle said she's off for the night… is everything…"

"She's just… she doesn't want him to be alone… I know he hates her doting on him but at the same time, I think he secretly likes it. He keeps joking she should have been a nurse and she snaps at him how she would have been a doctor if anything… chief of medicine at that."

Tim was still standing beside me, Batman somewhere far from here, "He seemed pretty good this morning."

"Yeah… he's on a whole mess of bronchodialtors and steroids but so far he's hanging in there," I began to laugh, "We were watching football tonight after dinner and I thought he had fallen asleep on the couch but when I went to change the channel he said, 'Don't even think about it, boy wonder'."

Tim smiled for a moment before Batman returned, "I'll take the Park."

"And leave me the docks, hell no."

He glared at me, and if I had not known the man underneath, I probably would have needed to change my tights.

"At least make it fair," I practically complained, "Want to flip for it?"

"No thank you, Harvey."

It was true, he was not witty…. Batman made very bad jokes.

I held out my fist and waited for him to do the same.

"One, two, three," I counted as we pumped our hands up and down.

He threw scissors.

I slammed my rock down on his fingers and said, "Enjoy the pungent aroma of the day's catch, Ham-Man!" before moving into a string of back flips to avoid any possible retaliation. By the time I made it back to my feet, he was gone.

^V^

I loved my husband.

I loved how brilliant he was, how wonderful he was with the children, how he always looked at me as if it was for the first time…

But there wasn't enough love in me to forgive him for messing around in my delicates.

"What are you doing?"

Caught literally red handed going through the in-wall dresser in my half of the monstrous closet, Bruce spun around to face me, deftly closing the drawer behind him, "Nothing."

I crossed my arms over my chest and directed an icy glare in his direction.

"I… I was helping Alfred put laundry away."

I approached him slowly, "You were better off saying 'nothing'."

Since I had told him that I had hidden one of my old suits somewhere, Bruce had secretly been on a one-man hunt to find it. At first it had been funny, seeing him search precariously through the house but that had unfortunately been only the beginning. He had scoured the manor from top to bottom and had even searched the nooks and crannies of the Cave, even after I promised him it wasn't down there.

Then again, he was never one to trust a…

As he tried to walk by me to seek refuge out of the closet, I said, "Colder."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Bruce proceeded to turn back towards me taking a half a stride in my direction.

I grinned, "Brrrrr."

The look on his face was somewhere between the little naughty smile he saved only for me and the Bat-scowl he saved for only those that made his life difficult.

Another step, this time slightly towards his part of the closet.

"Warmer."

He closed the distance between him and his wall of clothing in two strides, precisely skimming through the suits, shirts and pants that were hanging up. When his efforts earned him a mere "colder" he growled to himself before he started removing shoes from the shelf above his clothes, tossing them to the floor in order to reach into each cubby.

"Bruce, we're talking Fortress of Solitude cold here."

He paused before looking at his collection of shoes as they lay all over the floor.

"Warmer."

With minimal direction, he dropped to the ground and began examining the various small chests he kept with extra clothes in addition to personal belongings he cherished but did not want to see every day. Upon first moving to the Manor, Alfred had explained that the chests contained items form his childhood as well as from his travels over seas.

On all fours, he was finally directed to a chest of winter clothing. When his hands touched the clasp I bent over and touched his lower back, "Hot hot hot!"

Without opening it, he stood and faced me, "I locked it."

"Wait… you're not going to even look?"

He shook his head as that mixture of naughty smile and Bat-scowl turned strictly to a smile, "It's a little early to play Bat and Cat don't you think?"

"Meow," I leaned in to kiss him when I heard Nathan howling.

Although Mattie and Nathan loved each other, they were still siblings at heart. For some reason, the elder child had begun to try to control younger child's every move and with the both of them home for the holiday break it had made for a very long and loud five day weekend.

During a fight they had over who was sitting where at breakfast that morning, Bruce had leaned over and kissed my cheek before saying, "At least tomorrow is Monday."

Bruce and I both exited the closet together to find Nathan sitting on our bed crying and clutching his elbow dramatically. As Bruce looked him over and told he was fine, Mattie walked into the room.

I asked her, "What happened?"

She sighed and responded, "He started it, I told him I didn't want him playing in my room, and he kept bringing his toys in my room and leaving to go get more… I told him to stop and he didn't… and then I just put his toys in the hall and he started hitting me."

Bruce asked, "And how did he hurt his elbow?"

Nathan looked up at his father, "Mattie pushed me!"

"No, I didn't! You tripped on your alligator and you fell!"

"Enough," Bruce said, a hint of sternness in his voice. For so long we had been blessed with peace in our house but as they were getting older, their arguments were getting bigger.

"Mattie, you could have come and gotten one of us," I said.

"Yeah but he should listen to me too, I'm older…"

Bruce spoke, "And he's much younger. You have to remember that."

She snapped before spinning away towards her room, "Fine, take the baby's side!"

I allowed a moment to pass before I offered to go talk to her. Bruce nodded before helping Nathan off of the bed, "Okay… we'll go pick up our toys… and then have a time out."

"She pushed me… Imma good boy," Nathan defended himself while putting on the biggest, fakest pout to date.

I tried not to smile as Bruce replied, "Good boys do as they're told… If Mattie told you not to play in her room, you shouldn't have."

As my son realized he wasn't going to win, he began to cry again, plopping to the floor as he once more grabbed his elbow. While I left to speak to Mattie, I realized I had the easier child to talk down.

I had to knock twice before she answered, "Who is it?"

"You're only chance to still be allowed to go to the movies tonight."

She answered the door with a promptness that would have even amazed Alfred. After I stepped in she shut the door and watched as I sat down on the bed. When she hesitated to join me, I simply leaned back and began to stroke a slumbering Taffy on one of her pillows.

Mattie confessed, "I didn't mean to push him… He wouldn't stop hitting me… I never hit anyone when I was little."

"You were an angel," I agreed, "But not every child grows up the same."

She slowly walked over and finally sat down on the bed, "Is Dad mad at me?"

Shaking my head, I answered, "Of course not. He just doesn't like to see anyone fighting… especially over something silly."

"It's not silly, Mom… I don't want him playing in my room… He has his own room."

"And that's the end of the world, is it? Him bringing a few toys over?"

She didn't say anything to that.

With her entering middle school the following year, I knew this was going to be the very beginning of her evolution in to adolescence. As much as she had been a perfect first child, I feared that her sweet ways would be lost as her priorities changed from making Bruce smile with her acrobatic antics to making him cringe by going to school dances. I tried to tell myself I was prepared for what was to come but in all honesty, I didn't want to lose my baby girl any more than Bruce did.

But since I too was once a baby girl, I had a slight advantage over him.

"Am I going to be grounded?" she asked suddenly.

I leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Has your father ever grounded you?"

She shrugged, "I guess not."

"And I doubt he ever will… although maybe when you're older... if you crash one of the cars or something, he might consider it."

"I'm going to be a great driver, Mom... I win Mario Kart all the time," she smirked.

After I assured her she was still going to go to the movies with her friends that night, Bruce opened the door after a slight knock.

Mattie called out, "Come in."

The both of us expected him to start talking about how she needed to be more patient with her younger sibling or even that she needed to ask an adult to help her instead of taking action on her own.

But there was something on his mind that was far worse than hitting and pushing.

"Bruce?" I asked as I rose from the bed.

He began blinking and I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed before he managed quietly, "It's Jim."

^V^

My father was laid to rest beside Sarah Essen-Gordon the first of December.

Unlike the day he had died, the day of his funeral had been well below freezing, the barren trees of the Gotham Cemetery quivering in the icy winds as dismal gray clouds blotted out any ray of sun.

The day he had died, the sun had been shining.

The Sunday after Thanksgiving, he had ordered me out of the house and commanded Dick and I to go and do something useful. Dick napped on the couch all afternoon while I tried to catch up on logs and data that had piled up over the last few weeks. Although I knew I would only get yelled at, I planned on making dinner to take over to Dad. He was indeed grateful for my help but he claimed there was nothing wrong with his finger so he was still able to dial takeout on his own.

"Dad, that's crappy food," I had argued with him.

"I've lived off it for decades… no point in stopping now."

He had meant it as a joke. A joke he regretted the second I started crying.

After I had finished chopping up vegetables to make stir fry with, the phone rang. It often rang around six, mainly telemarketers trying to interrupt a happy family's dinner, occasionally Tim looking to work out with Dick and randomly Selina asking for an impromptu girl's night. But for some reason when the phone rang, I knew.

I didn't realize I had dropped the entire chopping board of vegetables on the floor until Dick stepped on crisp onions and peppers as he approached me. The phone had rang what seemed like hours ago but it was still in his right hand as he pressed it to the side of his face. With his other hand he grabbed mine as he knelt before me, kissing my fingers as tears began to slip over his cheeks.

No.

No, he was fine…

He was…

I felt Dick's fingertips on my hand and glanced over to see him forcing a smile. Although the others were riding to the reception in a pair of limousines, we had gone separately to the service. That way we would be able to stop by the Clocktower and take Frank for a walk before abandoning him for the rest of the day.

"Hanging in there?" he asked softly.

I nodded, "By a thread."

"Ah, but a good, strong Gordon thread," he chanced a look over at me again.

In light of his incalculable service to the city of Gotham, Dad had been given a full honors funeral, including a parade through downtown right to the steps of City Hall. Ten thousand uniformed police officers marched in procession, a truly stunning sight. I couldn't help but think he would have been pissed, wasting manpower and all. The mayor even gave a touching speech about how one man could and in fact had made a difference in our city.

Just as I had started to cry, Mattie, who had been looking up at the podium where Dick and I sat, blew me a kiss and a sad smile.

Before the parade had started, Dick had pulled some strings and let Mattie pet some of the police horses. When she spotted the horse in full dress with no rider and a pair of tall boots set backwards in the stirrups, she asked, "What's that for?"

Dick had crouched next to her and explained, "That represents the person who has died… it's to symbolize like… a warrior that will ride no more. The horse will be led behind the caisson," he pointed to the cart that held a flag draped coffin.

She had smiled at him and asked, "Can I lead him?"

"Sorry, kiddo, you have to be at least this tall," he held his hand mere inches above the top of her black, wavy hair, "to walk in the parade… Tough noogies."

I opted out of being in the parade but Dick and Will both joined in, wearing their former police dress uniforms. Jim also accompanied them but Maureen was at the podium, waiting for me. Since the weather was going to be bad, Maureen's mother, who had flown in for the weekend, offered to watch baby Sarah.

After dropping Dick and Will off at the start of the parade, I had to fight traffic for the better part of thirty minutes to get to the end. I spotted Bruce and Selina standing with the kids amidst the crowd. Not far from them, Tim and Cass stood shivering in the cold and Alfred and Leslie were beside them. What surprised me was that right next to Leslie stood the District Attorney and a woman with honey colored hair.

Dr. Bryce, I presumed.

When our DA had first taken office a few years earlier, I had naturally looked into every inch of his history. His wife included. She was a remarkable trauma surgeon but instead of taking over a department at any of Gotham's seven hospitals, she had settled in at the Free Clinic that Leslie ran.

They were both trying to save the city, one hopeless case at a time.

As the sound of bagpipes neared, I had put a brave face on. There was something eerie about them that always caused my stomach to flutter. I had once put it to the test and had watched Titanic with the volume up and then the next day had watched it without the volume. The first day, I had cried my little green eyes out.

The second day, I had laughed when the guy fell off of the back of the boat and hit the propeller.

Following the speeches, the gun salute and the posthumous medal of valor, of which he already had a number of right alongside a medal of honor, it was time to proceed to the cemetery. As much as I had wanted to get in the car and drive far, far away, Dick got in the driver's seat and followed the procession. Despite the size of the parade, only a few dozen attended the burial service; mostly close friends he had from the department in addition to our Family.

However, I had no doubt that far more would be attending the reception back at City Hall.

Dick stood behind me, his hands gently touching my shoulders. I had expected him to withdraw in order to put a brave front on for me but in all honesty he had cried just about as much as I had.

Then again, it wasn't like he was Bruce.

Before the coffin was lowered, many of the attendees approached it, either touching the glossy surface or leaving a flower behind. I smiled to see Selina, Nathan and Mattie approach tentatively before setting down a rose from each of them. As they walked away, I heard Nathan ask where Frank was.

After receiving the deepest sympathies from far too many people, I had Dick go with me for one last goodbye. At the calling hours held the night before, I had already slipped a photo of us from when I was still in pigtails into the pocket of his suit. It had been from the first year I had lived with him and he had taken me to the Gotham County fair.

I had scored a bull's eye on a water gun target and from the look on his face, he couldn't have been more proud.

Dick touched the coffin gently, "We'll take care of the firm, Jim. And of course, Frank can keep your office."

I laughed despite the setting and added, "He'll have to have his own water cooler, though." Dick laughed as well and then leaned over and kissed my cheek.

By the time he stood upright, I was crying.

After regaining my composure, I set one last rose atop the coffin before leaving with Dick. I was looking forward to the reception, mostly because the cops, both current and former, would no doubt turn the pain of mourning into the joy of a good roast. I had practically grown up with most of them and they were just as much a part of my family as Dad had been. I just hoped that Jim and Maureen would be able to survive it.

As we returned to the broad sidewalk, I realized the lone figure sitting in the third row of chairs in front of the casket.

Dick noticed as well and I reached back and squeezed his hand, "It's okay… Go to him."

"You sure?"

I nodded, "He needs you… I need a drink."

He kissed me once more before slowly walking over to Bruce, taking a seat to his left.

^V^

"It's physically impossible," Dick whispered.

Tim replied, "I agree, it defies the laws of physics, yes… but it is possible."

I rolled my eyes and ate another cream puff off of the plate Tim was holding.

"I'll bet you… hundred bucks, it's him."

Dick snickered, "Your loss… Cass, you want in on it?"

"It's him."

"No, it's not," Dick retorted, "And even if it is… It has to be an act of God and if that's the case than it doesn't count as him being him because now he's unnatural."

"Five hundred," I said.

Tim laughed before he leaned in and kissed me, "Great minds, think alike."

"All right," Dick said, "You two… obviously blind people against my perfect vision."

Barbara approached and before she could say anything, Dick asked, "Babs, who is that over there by the bar?"

"Harvey Bullock," she calmly replied.

"What? It can't be!" he declared.

I could see where he would have been misled. The once grossly overweight detective was now fairly fit, at least one hundred seventy-five pounds thinner than when he had left the GCPD for a job in homicide in Baltimore shortly after Jim Gordon had retired.

"Are you sure?" Dick asked, still not convinced.

She nodded, "He dropped by last week to see Dad. I guess when Dad answered the door he just stood there, jaw dropped… And Harvey just shrugged and said, 'Subway diet'."

"How in the hell do you lose that much weight by… eating?" Dick asked in sheer awe.

"Ask him," I recommended before snatching the last stuffed pepper off of Tim's plate.

Tim caught me and snatched my wrist before I could consume my treat. I then smiled and fed it to him instead.

"So speaking of Harvey's… did you see the camera at the parade and the service?" Tim asked as he chewed.

Barbara smiled, "Yeah… Kelsey called me yesterday to make sure I was okay with it."

"With what?" I asked eyeing the remaining morsel on the plate.

Tim popped the mini meatball in his mouth before explaining, "It was a live feed to Arkham, for Harvey Dent to watch in private."

I had dealt with Two-Face only a handful of times but knew he was once a very good man. That he, Batman and the former commissioner had worked very close to help clean up Gotham. Somewhere, behind the scars and the insanity, Harvey Dent was hiding.

Dick remarked suddenly, "So, I saw you were awfully chummy with the DA."

Barbara nodded. Before the reception opened, the guests paid their respects to Jim Gordon's family. Bryce had spent quite a bit of time talking with Barbara, about how much he cherished all that her father had done.

Casually eavesdropping from a few feet away, I had heard Bryce ask, "So, about this security firm… they do residences too?"

Barbara had nodded, "Anything that needs to be safe, they do it."

He had explained, "Well… I was thinking about having my house done… seeing how I'm making more enemies than friends in this city, I know it would make me feel better… not that Dana's worried, hell, she's not even scared to go to work in the middle of the night and that's practically Crime Alley."

I had walked away thinking anyone who didn't know how to use an escrima stick would be out of their mind to be fearless in that part of the city.

Bruce approached silently and said, "We're going to head home… the kids are pretty drained."

Barbara smiled and said, "Early for you to be calling it a night."

He tried to smirk but failed.

It didn't take an ability to read body language down to the minutest twitch of a finger to see how sad he was. I saw him when he had approached the coffin at the cemetery, with Dick a few feet behind him. I couldn't help but think Gordon retired, he retired.

Gordon got sick, he got sick.

Gordon died…

As Dick and Tim began recapping the terms of the bet they had not finalized, I excused myself for a minute. My intention had been to get more punch but I was distracted by a tall woman with long, dark hair.

Huntress.

Although without her crossbow and mask, it was Helena I supposed.

Tim had said a while back that she had figured out who Bruce and Dick and Barbara were but the she still didn't know who Tim and I were. As much as I wanted to tell her who I was, I knew it wasn't the smart thing to do.

It's not like the X-men movies that have the superheroes going around telling everyone their real names as well as their superhero names.

To make things more awkward, Helena turned and approached the table where the punch and non-alcoholic drinks were. The pepper had made me thirsty and I wasn't about to approach the bar and ask for a cran-apple juice. I decided to suck it up and get some damn punch.

My plan to simply filled cup for myself and one for Tim was ruined when she asked, "Do I know you?"

I shrugged and said, "Uh… No," before quickly leaving, empty-handed nonetheless.

After zigzagging through the crowd, I finally made it back to Tim, Dick and Barbara. I leaned in, setting a hand on his arm and whispered in Tim's ear, "Huntress is here."

Although I felt the muscles of his biceps clench, his face remained light, "That's interesting. Did she see you?"

"She thought she recognized me…"

Tim nodded, and then announced, "Dick, I'll take that money whenever you're ready, Barbara," he leaned in and kissed her, "I don't want to hear your voice at night for at least a week."

Instead of making our way back through the main throng, Tim and I left through a fire door that had been propped open with someone's shoe.

Since we had ridden about town in the limo for most of the day, we ended up taking a taxicab home. Instead of sitting next to the window, I chose to take the middle seat in order to lean against his arm. Upon arriving at the townhouse, we were greeted by urgent whines. As Tim let Robbie out back for a while, I went upstairs to change out of the black dress into a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved tee.

I jogged down the stairs while putting my hair up in a little bun just as I heard the phone ring. After racing to the den, I grabbed it on the fifth ring, "Hello?"

"Hey, Cass, it's Dick."

"What's up?"

"Listen… I think I'm going to sit out tonight… think the two of you can handle things?"

For some reason I almost corrected him to say that there were technically three of us but instead, I replied, "Sure."

He paused before saying, "Besides, I think it shouldn't be too bad… any criminal would have to be a complete moron to act out today of all days."

^V^

I had expected the ride home to be silent.

Instead, it was Nathan giggling in the back seat alternating with Mattie whispering, "Stop it."

Five minutes from home, I felt my shoulders bunching and Selina intervened before I could make a poor choice of words, "It's been a long day, you two, let's not make it longer."

Although there had been a bounty of food available at the reception, I hadn't even had so much as a glass of water. In fact, all I had ingested in two days had been coffee and then a fraction of an omelet Mattie had made for me that morning. Needless to say, my stomach was practically digesting itself. Unfortunately, Alfred had opted to stay in the city to have dinner with Leslie and one of the doctors that worked at the clinic.

Thankfully, Mattie and Nathan had both filled up, not only at the reception but at breakfast as well. I even noticed Selina giving them granola bars during the parade. She had offered me one but I had declined. She had said, "A hungry kid is a cranky kid, Bruce."

Once home, I offered to take Nathan so that Selina and Mattie could change and get ready for bed. Selina then said she would take our son so I could eat something.

Not wanting to fight over something foolish, I agreed.

Unfortunately, I had drained the entire pot of coffee earlier in the day and was not quite prepared to risk my life by touching Alfred's kitchen appliances. After scanning the refrigerator, I settled for a bottle of electrolyte-enriched water, hoping to at least hydrate myself properly. From there, I decided something more solid might be wise and selected a few almond scones from the cookie jar.

Deciding the kitchen was too quiet I headed for the study. I had yet to find the will to read the Sunday paper, of which had Jim Gordon's face on the front page.

Although it was no surprise to have lost him, it was still hard to accept that we had lost him so quickly. Had he not given up on treatment, he would have undoubtedly made it well into the next year, perhaps long enough to see his only grandchild's first birthday.

But as he had told me in the hospital, he wasn't giving up on life…

"Dad?"

I had been sitting in an overstuffed leather armchair when I heard Mattie. I patted my lap as she approached but she shook her head, opting to stand directly in front of me.

"Are you okay, kitten?" I asked as I turned the lamp on that rested on the end table beside me.

She looked positively terrified.

"Mattie?"

She let out a shaky breath, "I know, Dad."

"You know what?"

"Your secret… I figured it out."

My heart rate doubled but my voice was steady as I asked, "What secret?"

"It makes sense… it explains everything… but you're done now so.. it's okay, it's better that you didn't keep doing it… Or else…" her breaths were starting to come faster and as I stood she shook her head, "I'm fine. I just… why didn't you tell me you were in the mob?"

I fell to my knees in front of her, "The… the mob?"

She nodded, stepping back slightly, "They killed your parents to get to the money… and then they offered to protect you… and when you wanted out, they hurt you, because the mob is forever, Dad, you can't just quit… so, you had to leave the city for so long.... And I don't know when but they finally let you out, you must have paid them but…"

I reached forward and set my hands on her tiny arms, almost relieved at what she was saying, "Mattie… I was never… I was never in the mob."

"But… they helped set up the frame, for when Vesper died and you had to go to pris---."

"What do you know about Vesper?" I asked, perhaps too sternly.

Her eyes shot back and forth quickly before she answered, "Just what was in the newspapers…"

Trying to not to let my anger surface, I asked, "What did I tell you about looking things up like that?"

The fear that had been in her eyes a moment earlier was rapidly replaced with anger, "I don't care! I don't care, I should know these things, you should have told me!"

Suddenly I heard Selina's voice in my head, _Tell her, Bruce, the sooner the better…_

"Mattie… I promise you, I was never with the mob… in fact… I…"

_Tell her, Bruce … _

"When my parents died, I made a vow to make sure that no other would suffer as I had… that criminals would no longer run rampant in Gotham. I spent a majority of my youth traveling the world, learning from the best in a number of fields… man hunting, escape artistry, dozens of martial artists as well as stunt men, racecar drivers and even detectives. I had to prepare my body and mind for the war I was about to begin… the war on crime. When I returned, I knew I couldn't use what I had learned as a cop… they too were just as corrupt as the criminals they fought. I wanted the criminals to not fear getting caught or doing jail time… I wanted them to fear the night… to be so afraid that they wouldn't even think about hurting others… Mattie… I was Batman."

The thin arms in my hands began to tremble slightly. Her mouth began to gape open, "But I saw Batman… and you were there too…"

"I… I spent twenty years of my life protecting this city… but I couldn't fight forever. I stepped down when you were six years old… I had to do it, not just because of my health but for you and for Mom. I chose Tim to step up and take my place, alongside Dick… as Nightwing and Cassandra… as Batgirl…" I pressed on, knowing that if I didn't say everything right then, I would never be able to, "Tim was Batman that night… That was his first night, actually."

She turned suddenly and began to back away, "No…"

I rose to my feet, "The scars weren't from accidents… each one is a reminder… of what I've sacrificed for this city…"

She whispered, "Your leg…"

"Even though I'm not Batman anymore… I still help. That was… an error on my part… I pushed myself too far and…"

Mattie turned and started to leave the room and I followed her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She glared back at me, "Don't touch me…"

"Mattie please, try to understand… I wanted to protect you. I love you."

She paused before staring at me with my own eyes, "I hate you," and then ran out of the room.

Selina found me standing there twenty minutes later, "What the hell did you do to her, she's crying louder than Nathan was about his damn elbow last weekend."

Somehow, I found my voice, "I told her."

Selina leaned against the door frame, "Told her what?"

"The truth…"

My expectations must have been off for I had no idea that my wife was going to hit me in the face. "How could you?" she growled.

"You tell me to tell her, I tell her, now you're telling me I shouldn't have told her?" I returned the snarl.

Selina's eyes narrowed, "That's not my point… You could have told me you were going to tell her, Bruce."

"I hadn't… she accused me of…" losing any hope of defending or even justifying what I had done. Instead, I sighed and looked at her apologetically, "Is she really that upset?"

Selina nodded slowly, "And from what I can see, she must have done a number on you, too."

"She said… she hates me."

"You know she doesn't."

I shook my head, "I've made scowls that were happier than the look she gave me."

"Well, if it's any comfort, I didn't hate you when you told me."

"I know… you jumped on me," I tried to lighten my tone but it didn't work. After a forced sigh, I asked, "Should I---."

Selina shook her head, "No… not unless you want another Wayne woman to hit you."

^V^


	26. What Lies Ahead: XXVI

Title: What Lies Ahead: XXVI

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: While the Wayne Family leave on a vacation, a new and yet oddly familiar face shows up in Gotham.

Author's Note:

^V^

"Why aren't you coming, Alfred?"

I looked up from my task of arranging winter clothing in a suitcase for young Miss Mattie. She was sitting on the other side of the bed, her beloved Taffy resting in her lap.

"I'm afraid…" I began.

… _I'm not the swashbuckling type_…

"Afraid of snow?" she finished when my words failed me.

"Not in the least… but I am well beyond the age that makes cascading down mountains on bits of plastic remotely appealing."

For the weeklong February vacation from school, Master Bruce had decided to take his family to Colorado for an alpine adventure. Originally, they had intended to go over the Christmas holiday but with passing of James Gordon and the revelations he had made to his daughter, Master Bruce had little cheer to share with his family. Nevertheless, they were to stay at the private cabin that had been in his name for nearly fifteen years but to my knowledge had never once set foot in.

Despite the tension that had developed since December within the Wayne Family, each seemed legitimately enthusiastic for the trip. Master Nathan had already declared that he was going to make the world's biggest snowman. His older sister, however, was far more excited about learning how to snowboard. Ms. Selina seemed to be interested in lounging about the fireplace for the week.

Master Bruce was grateful to spend time with his daughter.

In the two months since Miss Mattie had been informed of her father's true life, it had been difficult to stand by and watch repercussions of his confession. For nearly a week, the child was furious with him, as well as her mother and the rest of her family. Meals were cold and silent and she passed on all extracurricular activities, spending the hours following school hidden in her bedroom.

With such radical change in her life, I had decided to do what I could to return things to normal. Each afternoon I presented her a snack and beverage to go along with her studies. I offered an ear for her to vent her troubles but she always politely declined. After dinner, as she promptly returned to her bedroom, I offered to read with her or to play a game of Risk, of which she also refused.

On the fifth day, she finally gave in.

After joining her one afternoon, she asked me to take a seat at her desk while she stood beside me. Without even looking at the macadamia nut cookies or chocolate milk I brought with me, Miss Mattie declared, "I don't hate him, Alfred… I just… I hate that he lied to me."

"That is to be expected… No doubt you feel betrayed," I tried to offer her words of comfort.

She nodded, "Exactly, but… it's not like it was just him, it was everyone… Mom and Dick and Tim... Cass and Barbara… even you Alfred. If he had told me sooner… I wouldn't have told anyone, I swear…"

I reached out and touched her hand, "Miss Mattie… those who have learned the truth are forever in harm's way. Although the Batman has many allies and followers, he has that many more enemies, all willing to stop at nothing to hurt him in any way possible."

"But he's not Batman anymore."

I nodded, "Yes but… the worst of his enemies do not know that. And at any rate, it is him they loathe… him they wish to seek vengeance upon." When she did not respond, I proceeded, "But what concerned your father the most was his need to shield you, not from those that would wish harm upon him and his loved ones but… from the world he had lived in for so long. He wanted you to be able to have a normal upbringing, not one spent worrying about his welfare or frightened by what he had experienced."

"I don't understand…"

After a quiet sigh, I continued, "If your father had told you when you were younger, while he was still Batman, you would have been aware of the injuries he suffered, the exhaustion he faced from long nights… Not to mention the tragic losses he has endured over the years from his own errors… and as a result from forces he could not control. By not telling you… yes he delayed the inevitable but in a way… he preserved your childhood."

That night at dinner, Miss Mattie hugged her father and kissed his cheek before sitting next to him at the table.

After dessert, he showed her the Cave.

It had then been a non-stop education, father teaching daughter about her family, her true Family. He showed her the various costumes he had worn over the years, the tools and vehicles he used as well as his collection of evidence he kept as reminders of his accomplishments.

And failures.

When he had shown her the glass costume displays, she had immediately been drawn to the boldly colored Robin guise that had once belonged to Jason Todd. She had asked him who he was but instead of responding, he promised to tell her another day. Instead of pushing on the matter, Master Bruce had said that she had accepted it and moved on to look at Ms. Barbara's old Batgirl suit.

"It's unnatural, Alfred," he had told me one evening after spending nearly three hours with his daughter in the Cave's gymnasium, "She's taking it… too well. All she wants is more information, more stories…"

"I detect worry in your voice, Master Bruce."

"It does worry me," he had confessed, "I dread catching her one day sketching her own costume on the margins of her math homework…"

"Might you nip this worry in the bud, so to speak?"

He had paused before replying, "I don't know if she would take that as well… forbidding her from a life that her entire family is involved in. But encouraging it… I can't, Alfred. I won't."

After folding a sweater and handing it to me, Miss Mattie let Taffy step off of her lap, "Well, I promise to take lots of pictures with my new camera."

I set the last article of clothing in the case before replying, "That would be splendid, my dear," I replied as I went about zipping up the massive piece of luggage. Having already tended to Master Nathan's preparations the night before, all that was left was to see to it that the elder Wayne child was also suited for a week of wintry exploration. Ms. Selina had been in charge of packing for herself and her wayward husband.

"Where'd Mom go this morning?" the young girl asked as she slipped off of her bed.

"Ms. Barbara invited her down for brunch."

Miss Mattie smirked before saying, "Like a girl's morning... Instead of a girl's night."

"Precisely," I said just as Master Bruce appeared in the doorway.

He offered a slight smile and asked, "All set, kitten?"

"Yep... are you sure we can't take Taffy?"

The child had been inquiring about taking her feline friend since the vacation had been planned. Master Bruce had declined a number of times, not so much concerned with the animal residing in the cabin but more so for the actual plane ride out. "You heard Mom, Taffy would much rather stay home, where she knows her surroundings. Alfred will take care of her."

I stood and flattened my sweater, "I shall even allow her to sleep in my chambers."

"Okay," Miss Mattie replied, "Are we leaving soon?"

He nodded, "Mom's almost done at Barbara's, and we'll pick her up before going to the airport. Why don't you get Nathan and I'll carry your luggage down."

"Sir, I insist…" I began. Although I was indeed getting up in years, I was still more than capable of tending to the family. Leslie was constantly ragging on me about taking better care of myself but inactivity only aggravated my arthritis. I would much rather clean the kitchen or weed the rose garden as opposed to icing my fingers and sitting in an overstuffed chair.

Master Bruce was growing to share her concerns although he wore his worry silently.

He interrupted, "Enough… I'll take them…"

Miss Mattie grabbed my hand, "Let him, Alfred, I'll need help getting Nathan into his mittens."

^V^

In order to prepare for brunch with Selina, I had seen to it that the night before my darling husband patrolled all over Bludhaven so that he would sleep in.

Sinister, no. Devious, slightly.

While he snored in bed, I snuck out of his arms, showered and dressed before closing the bedroom door. Even in his comatose form, his freakishly heightened sense of smell would no doubt force him to rise and stumble down the hall to investigate.

Having a desire for crab for the last few days, I had decided to go all out and make Blue Crab Frittata for brunch. A little extravagant compared to the English muffins, bacon and scrambled eggs I made for Dick most mornings but considering it took about as much time and skill I couldn't resist. When we had gone grocery shopping the night before, he had been impressed at the variety of items on the list and had even asked, "Hot date?"

"You could say that," I had smiled before sending him off on a quest for produce.

After setting the coffee maker, a strong Tanzanian blend Bruce had gotten me for Christmas, I went about slicing and frying up the potatoes and onions. As they cooked on medium heat, I mixed eggs, cream, Tabasco as well as salt and pepper and set the bowl aside. I was just retrieving croissants from the pantry when I heard the front door open. Loud click-clacks made their way down the wide corridor before stopping in the kitchen.

When I appeared a moment later, I caught Selina looking through a drawer, "Where do you keep your corkscrew?"

"Little early for that utensil, isn't it?" I asked as I opened the drawer to her left and retrieved it.

She answered, "I have to ride in a plane with Bruce and the kids for four hours… I need liquid courage."

As she went about opening a bottle of champagne, I retrieved two glasses and set them on the island counter for her. For a simple day, she had dressed nicely, black knee length skirt and a fitted purple top with three quarter sleeves and plenty of cleavage. Dick had joked once that she must truly be part cat because no woman would look like her after having children.

I returned to the stovetop and poured the egg mix over top of the vegetables, stirring quickly to mix them. After taking the bowl of crabmeat I had Dick prepare the night before, no doubt under the impression I was making him crab-stuffed mushrooms. I dumped the contents on top of the fast cooking eggs and turned the heat up slightly. While Selina prepared mimosas, I put the croissants in the oven to warm for a few minutes.

"Here you are, much better than coffee," Selina handed me a glass and we clinked before drinking.

"Agreed…" I smiled but couldn't help thinking I could use the liquid courage myself. As I removed the croissants and set the cast iron skillet in under the broiler for a bit, I asked, "Excited?"

"I am for the kids, Mattie's already signed up for daily snowboard lessons and has been talking about it since Christmas. And they have a... I guess winter pre-school that Nathan's in… they learn to ski, they do crafts and make snowmen," she drained her glass and went about making another, "And of course Bruce is convinced he's going down a black double diamond slope."

"Is he?" I laughed before downing the rest of my mimosa as well.

Selina nodded as she took my glass, "Here we have time to ourselves while the kids are out on adventures during the day and he wants to try to break his neck on a mountain."

I checked the frittata to see it was perfectly browned. As I took it out of the oven and turned it off, I commented, "Poor prioritization."

"Always has been his down fault…. Bruce, look at my new nighty…" she acted out before speaking in a baritone, "That's nice, I'll be downstairs…. Stupid men."

"I'll drink to that," I said as she handed me the refill.

We ate right there in the kitchen at the small table in the back. For a while the topic stayed on the trip and how Selina was still sad that she couldn't convince her family to travel to warmer climates. She even recounted a conversation where Bruce said he'd rather risk frostbite in place of UV radiation on the children.

I nearly had mimosa go up my nose.

"So, where's your dumb man?" she asked as she delicately cut up another slice of the frittata.

"Sleeping… He had a pretty busy night in Bludhaven."

She took a small bite before saying, "I still can't believe he goes out there… what, three, four nights a week."

"Like you said, dumb… But… it's hard for him to just leave everything behind. That was really his first chance to prove his worth without a looming pointy-eared shadow behind him."

"True…" she took another bite before finishing off her fourth mimosa. I had opted to have only two before switching to coffee. After setting her glass back down, she smiled at me, a smile I had only seen beneath purple leather, "So, you going to tell me why you asked me here this morning?"

"To send you off, a week without you? It will seem like an eternity."

"That's sweet, girl, but a lie. Nathan has a better poker face when he's denying his involvement in ripping up Bruce's Italian ties."

Damn, I should have stuck with champagne.

"All right… but you have to promise not tell anyone, even Dick," I demanded.

"What, you're leaving him for Alejandro the busboy at Gardenia?"

I tired not to smile, knowing how fond Selina and I were of the young staff member at one of Bruce's restaurants. When we there as a group, Selina and I were entranced as he bent over to clear tables… Poor Bruce thought we were just having a good meal.

When the present returned, my face went solemn, "When… when the Joker shot me… there was damage to a number of vessels, one of which was a branch off of my uterine artery. They thought it was under control after surgery but to be safe we opted to harvest eggs. Thankfully we did because a blood clot went through the next day and… I never… I never told Dick but… they ended up doing a partial hysterectomy… like yours…"

Selina's fingertips reached across the tile-topped table and touched mine.

Without any further prompting, I continued, "Back then I never… I guess, I knew some day I would settle down and want a family, but I never thought it would be with Dick. I couldn't convince myself that it would actually work. But so much has changed since then… I… I know he wanted children eventually, but later… when we were a bit older. Any time we brought the subject up, I just couldn't tell him that I wouldn't be able to…"

"Barbara…"

"Please… I started to think about it more when we found out you and Bruce were trying to have another child… I know we have the same blood type and it would only take a few minor tests to check for complete compatibility, but I was starting to think that maybe after you and Bruce… that you would be able to… if you wanted to…" I looked up to see her green eyes were shimmering.

No doubt my own green eyes were in the same state.

"And then after Nathan, I guess I just put the idea away in the back of my mind. It wasn't important then, making sure you and the baby were going to be okay, that was what I focused on. I really didn't start thinking about it again until Trey had his baby and then Jim and Maureen…"

"The baby bug is a terrible vector," she tried to smile but it didn't work with a trembling lower lip. When I didn't reply, she said, "Well, we'll just have to find you a new baby mama."

"Selina, please… I---."

"Nonsense. You know your father's going to throw a livid fit upstairs if he finds out you're giving up on getting the Gordon name, even the hyphenated name, out to the next generation."

I finally sighed and said, "I think I need another drink."

We finished the bottle of champagne, leaving the orange juice untouched on the counter. For the better part of an hour we discussed the necessary requirements in a surrogate mother. Fairly young, healthy, willing to sacrifice a year for the birth of someone else's child. Also, it needed to be someone we trusted, close to the Family.

"Canary what's her face," Selina suggested before hiccupping.

I shook my head, "I'm sure she would be willing but I would fear for what her Canary Cry would do to the doctors upon delivery."

"Good point… hmmm, someone with fewer super-powers then…" a grin spread across her face.

I glared at her, "If you even think about saying Huntress, I will---."

"No, I was thinking younger, shorter, less chatty."

"You can't be serious."

She shrugged, "Well, it would hinder her nightlife, but… she'd do anything for you."

I sat back in my chair, "I know… But, she's more like a little sister to me… I mean, I was her only friend in those first few months she came to No Man's Land. I bought the first tube of lipstick for her, for crying out loud."

"You scratch my back…" Selina began.

"What about scratching?" Dick's voice said as he passed into the kitchen wearing blue cotton pajama pants. He looked down at the table and spoke in the voice of an eight-year-old boy, "But that… that was… my crab meat…"

I smirked, "Dumb."

Selina grinned as her cell phone chirped, "And Dumber," she said after checking the Caller ID. As Dick muttered while pouring himself coffee, I listened as Selina answered, "Yes, my love… Oh we're about done… Of course… Oh, and make sure you bring the coloring books… On the table… in the bedroom… His bedroom… All right, I'll be waiting."

Dick walked over and took the last piece of the frittata, "Have a fun morning, ladies?"

"Without you, it was a blast, wasn't it Barbara?"

"A true delight," I added to my husband's dismay.

"Champagne, crab egg thing… the raisin croissants I picked up after work yesterday… I bet it was a delight… Well, if you need me, I'll be having a Pop-Tart that I found in the couch cushion the other day."

He made three steps towards the door before I admitted, "Dick, your crab stuffed mushrooms are in the fridge, bottom drawer."

Where he had been moping a moment earlier, his entire form filled with glee and he dashed back over to me, kissing me on the lips before racing to retrieve a plate of his favorite appetizer that I had made after he left for patrols the night before.

Once we were alone again, Selina said, "See, you already can handle the big baby, it will be a piece a cake with a little one."

^V^

"Can I tell you something?"

Babs sighed on the comm. link, "Is it about how Bruce never took you anywhere as a kid?"

"Uh… Maybe?" I pulled out a pair of binoculars and aimed them at the street corner below. A trio of prostitutes were huddling together, smoking and striving for warmth.

Pretty much the most excitement they, as well as I, had seen in Gotham all night.

"I don't know… I should be too mature to be jealous but… I guess I wish could alter time and space and… somehow be raised by this Bruce as opposed to 'Did I slap you on the back too hard, chum?' Bruce."

She snickered softly, showing not an ounce of understanding for my troubles, "Dick, first of all, if you were too mature to be jealous of a pre-teen and a four-year-old, you wouldn't still have that stuffed Scrappy Doo hidden on the shelf in the closet."

"Hey, I won that for you at the Gotham County fair when we were young… it's sentimental."

"It's ugly, and you didn't win it, I saw you sneak it out of the prize bin after that kid beat you in the water rifle game."

I paused before saying coolly, "I disagree… but continue."

"Second, if the Bruce of today had raised you, you would be completely different and I would no longer have the man that I love today."

"Aw, Babs," I replied as the three girls finally gave up on the bitter cold and began heading down North Ave towards an all night diner, "You really do love me… Mushrooms for breakfast, a backrub while I played Zelda on Wii… You're not leaving me are you?"

I laughed, "To death do us part."

Another pause before, "You hired a handless Deadshot to take me out, didn't you?"

"No, Robbie," she said, her voice near giggling.

"Good… because now that he's out of commission, I could totally take him," I declared as I decided to head west towards the diamond district. Although Valentine's Day had passed, there was always some one seeking to make off with a few hundred thousand dollars in fine jewelry.

At least I hoped there was.

Quiet nights had always been torture for me. When patrolling, I had to stay active, even when I was a child out way passed my bedtime. Sure I zonked out on the way home in the Batmobile but I was always a ball of energy from the first rooftop I climbed to the last alley I raced through.

I should have been happy the city was safe for a night but I was too bored.

"I'm sure you could," she replied, "The Boss said he'll be out as soon as he's back from the JLA meeting."

"Oh I bet that's more fun than what I'm having…" I muttered as I nearly slipped on a patch of melting snow.

"Marginally… J'onn brought Oreos and hot cocoa, though…"

"Damn Martians."

"Want me to patch you through, so you can tell him that?"

I thought of the mighty Martian Manhunter and his countless abilities before saying, "I'll pass."

"Well, I need to help Dinah out, scream if you need me."

I went to reply but she already logged off.

Since that morning she had alternated between being very sweet and loving to almost rude and uncaring. Although she had been doing reasonably well since her father had passed away, I couldn't help but think she was hiding her troubles from me. Whenever I had offered to talk, she brushed me away saying everything was all right.

Similar to one of Bruce's terse I'm fine's.

On my way, I contacted Batgirl and found her fairing better than I. She apparently had picked the busier side of the city and had found a small ring of Rasta Boyz that were trying to get their vile gang back and running. When I asked if she needed help, she had curtly decline, "No, they're dirt napping."

"What?"

"The construction zone in the Bowery, they fell in big pile of dirt."

Better than throwing them in dumpsters I supposed.

Back to solitude I finally found some action, although I wasn't the first upon the scene. Huntress was enthusiastically taking out a mugger as a young woman scattered off, clutching her broken purse. Once the thug was down for the count, I dropped down and commented, "I hope he deserved that."

She spun around, her face already smiling, "It was an Armani purse… he deserves worse."

I glanced down at his bleeding face and suddenly was glad that Barbara never found out about the time I dropped one of her Gucci toiletry pouches in the toilet.

She suddenly asked, "Where's the big bad bat, usually he hunts me down at least once a night."

"Oh, you know, outer space."

"Ah… the League of Extraordinary Ladies and Gentlemen."

I nodded and watched as she bound the unconscious man by the ankles and wrists, "They who watch from above." For a moment, I nearly asked if she missed working with them but I decided that her already loaded crossbow was enough of a deterrent to keep my mouth shut.

When I offered to call it into the police she shrugged, "I was going to let him lay there and think about it over night but if you want…"

Women were very weird.

I did call in the perp but instead of continuing on my own, I found myself touring with Huntress for nearly an hour. We had a long and bizarre past, most of which I regretted but some of which I missed. She was good at what she did, perhaps too good. I couldn't count the number of times Bruce complained about her recklessness and excessive force but in the end I knew he was just upset that her skill was being wasted on violence and vengeance.

"So…" she said after a few rooftops.

"So."

We worked together to stop a hold-up at an all-night corner store.

"So…" she said afterwards.

"So…" I replied.

An arson attempt.

A jumper attempt.

Finally, as we neared the diamond district, she asked, "How's the old man?"

"Uh... I wouldn't call him that… He may be two time zones away right now but he probably heard that."

"Oh, where is he?"

"Family vacation."

She smirked, "I'm sorry… I'm still having trouble picturing him as a real person."

I tried to joke, "Oh he's real enough… I think he's scarier without the mask." There was a sudden flash of a figure a block away and I pulled out my binoculars again, "So I saw you at Jim's reception in December."

She paused, trying to see what I was without aided vision, "Yeah… I didn't even know he was sick. How's Barbara?"

I focused in on the small, lithe figure and lost it as it disappeared behind an air condition vent, "Good… I mean, as good as she can be…"

"I meant to drop by but… What are you looking at?"

I increased the magnification and waited for the figure to appear, "Not sure…"

The person came into view once more, crouching above a window skylight on top of the Cartier building. She was small framed, sporting what appeared to be a skintight suit and high heels. I zoomed in again and began to laugh despite the fact that the young woman had unlocked the skylight and had dropped inside.

"What, what's so funny?"

I waited to reply until the figure returned, a small bag on her back. I handed the binoculars to Huntress and listened as she swore softly. When she handed them back, she asked, "You're just going to let her go?"

"Oh, I'm sure she'll be around for a while," I locked her in my sights once more, grinning at the sight of a small pointy-eared cowl and the bullwhip at the jewel thief's hip. "After all, when the bat's away, the cat will play…"

^V^

Unfortunately, the second to last day of our trip there had been a vicious snowstorm that prevented the kids from attending their daily mountain top adventures. Mattie had pouted for most of the day but Nathan had only been bummed until I suggested we bake cookies.

The week itself had been far more enjoyable than I had expected. Although I was never one for snow, I had gone out the first day to watch Mattie's first snowboarding lesson and also to see my son tackle the Junior Bunny slope. Mattie had taken a few initial tumbles but had laughed as she slid down the hill on her backside. Nathan's first trip down the faint incline on his tiny skis had him crying the whole way down but once he learned he could ride the conveyer belt up to the top again he was suddenly delighted.

Where Bruce and Mattie sampled the slopes each day, Nathan explored the world of Colorado in his Mountain Adventurers class, learning about the mountains, wildlife, weather as well as a number of winter sports. They even played ice hockey, but instead of wearing skates they wore tiny sneakers with little cleats.

Even though I wasn't partaking in the outdoor activities, I was still having a wonderful time staying inside. There was a day spa not far from our private cabin and I treated myself twice that week, even taking Mattie along one day. When I asked if Bruce wanted to go for a couple's massage he had said that there were only one set of hands he needed on his body.

Mrrrrow.

I also spent my time alone reading, working on grant proposals for the Preserve and of course a multitude of catnaps. The rest of my family generally arrived at the cabin around four in the afternoon and after showering and changing we went out for dinner at any one of the restaurants in Colorado Springs. Although, at her request, we stayed home one night and Mattie cooked for us. And when I tasted the chicken marsala, I could have sworn Mattie had packed Alfred in her suitcase.

The night of the storm, Bruce had gone to pick up some take out from the restaurant in the hotel a few miles away. Mattie had wanted to go with him but with the snow falling an inch an hour he was adamant that it was safer for her to stay here.

As we had waited, Nathan came up to me while I sat on the couch beside Mattie, "I wanna col-ah."

"Hmmm, well where's you're coloring book?"

He shrugged his little shoulders, and I suddenly noticed he had two handfuls of crayons ready for action.

Mattie sat up on the couch and put a bookmark in the Harry Potter book she was reading for the fifth time, "He used up all the one's he brought."

"Uh-oh…" I said, "Wait, I think there's the one from the plane when we came out… And I think Daddy put it in his briefcase…" I told Nathan to wait on the couch while I went to get it from the master bedroom.

As I navigated up the stairs, I felt my phone buzzing in my jeans pocket. Without looking, I answered, "Please tell me they had fried brie."

Bruce replied, "You'll have to wait and see."

"Grr… Oh, did you put Nathan's coloring book in your briefcase?"

"Yes… it should be right on top. I'll be back in a few minutes, I'm behind a plow right now."

I smiled as I turned the light on in the bedroom, "Take your time…" after opening his briefcase, I added, "I'll try to prevent cannibalism… cookies do make the best appetizer."

The coloring book wasn't on top; it was underneath a packet of dog-eared white papers.

As Bruce replied, "Only two a piece… I just didn't risk my life for them to not finish dinner," I read the cover sheet of the packet that was dated a little over a year ago: _The Will and Testament of Bruce Wayne_.

It was then, as I managed to reply to Bruce on auto-pilot that I loved him, that I remembered the plane ride over. Nathan had been sitting next to Bruce, coloring in pictures of football players while Mattie and I had been cuddling on the sofa seat watching a movie. Bruce had been reading through papers, marking things with a pen and scribbling in notes.

Damn him.

I hid the will in the small end table beside the bed and returned to the den, a smile on my face as I handed my son his NY Giants coloring book. As he found the last page he had been working on, I asked Mattie if she wanted a cookie.

She looked up and said, "That's okay, I can wait… I s Dad almost home?"

I nodded and sat between my children, "He just called actually, he should be back in a few minutes."

After dinner, I told myself, I could wait until after dinner to flay him.

While Nathan was occupied, I stepped into the kitchen and began setting the table. I had begun to retrieve silverware when I heard Mattie's footfalls on the tiled floor.

"Done reading?" I asked.

"For now… Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Only if you fold napkins," I smiled and handed her four pieces of dark blue linen.

She took them and carefully folded them before placing them next to the empty plates, "Did you fall in love with Dad because he was… you know."

Before I could respond, I heard the front door open and Nathan shout out in glee, "Daddy!"

I winked and said, "We'll talk tomorrow… we have mani-pedis scheduled at four."

Bruce appeared in the open kitchen entrance, his arms full of white paper bags while Nathan had a death grip on his thigh. I went to pull Nathan off but Bruce set the bags down on the counter before saying, "He's fine… Not much of a take down though."

Mattie smiled as she watched Bruce gently twist Nathan off his legs before lifting the child in the air with his back pinned to his father's chest. Nathan laughed and tried to squirm free but Bruce did not yield and instead had Mattie tickle her little brother's tummy.

After putting an end to the chaos, Bruce left to wash up with Nathan while Mattie and I finished setting up dinner. Apparently the hotel restaurant had been closed and he had instead dropped by a Greek place that happened to be open. Not one for simple take out, Bruce had returned with Greek side salads for everyone in addition to lamb chops, sautéed eggplant and mussels as well as a plate of Phyllo cups filled with Feta.

And just for me, fried Brie from the restaurant we had gone to our first night in Colorado.

Maybe I would make his death slightly less painful.

After dinner, I helped Nathan bathe and change for bed while Bruce and Mattie read in the den in front of the fireplace. It was nice to see they had returned to their normal relationship, if not even closer than before. Those first few days in December had been brutal, for all of us…

When I was coming downstairs after tucking my son in, Mattie met me as she was ascending them. I asked as she walked by me, "Bed so soon?"

She shrugged, "I guess… Dad looked tired so I figured I wouldn't make him stay up reading…" Mattie took a few steps back towards me and kissed my cheek, "Night, Mom."

"Good night," I replied after kissing her back.

I found Bruce reclined on the leather couch, watching the fire dwindle. He did look tired but that wasn't going to get him out of the trouble he'd made for himself. When he spotted me approaching, he smiled and patted his lap. When I chose to stand and stare down at him, he asked, "What?"

"You know what."

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Do you remember when you stepped down… you promised not to keep things from me, ever again."

"Of course---," he began.

I interrupted him, "And then when you had cluster headaches, you promised again not to keep things from me."

As he stood, Bruce tried to ask, "Selina, what are you---." Although I had intended to control myself, I reached out to hit him but he was quick enough to grab my wrist and block the blow. He continued, "What is going on?"

I threw the will down on the coffee table and it landed on Nathan's coloring book, "Bruce… this is a family vacation. I know you don't have much experience in them but the general standard of conduct includes not working on your god damn will with your son sitting next to you drawing with crayons!" my voice rose considerably and I suddenly feared Mattie had heard me. Bruce took a step forward and I retreated, "Don't… Don't even think about it."

"Selina… I'm sorry… I… with Jim gone I… I had to alter it. To assign what I was going to give to him to his son and Maureen…"

Normally when we argued, especially in the department of him keeping secrets from me, his voice was just as loud and aggressive as mine. The look on his face was usually reminiscent of some of the more severe Bat-glares I had endured in my time.

His words were barely above a whisper.

His eyes were glassy.

Damn him.

Before he could say another word, I stepped towards him, "I want to make one thing absolutely clear."

He nodded.

"If you die before I am ready for you to die, I will bring you back to life... I don't care if I have to use a Lazarus pit to do it… and then I will kill you myself. Understood?" He opened his mouth and I cut him off, "If you say 'Yes, dear,' so help me God, Bruce, I'll---."

"Yes, de---."

That time his reflexes weren't as sharp and he took my fist square in the jaw.

With a smile on his face.

^V^

"Well, at least we know it's not Selina," Dick commented as we all stared at the blurry video surveillance tape of yet another Catwoman burglary. In the last week there had been practically two each night and this was the first time we had managed to catch her in the act on video.

Barbara enhanced the footage and zoomed in, "It is rather difficult to be on a Rocky mountaintop and a Gotham City rooftop at the same time."

Dick said, "No I mean… Well there's that but… you know."

I looked up from the monitor and said, "Oh, please, do tell."

He shrugged, "Well, look at her…" I did as told, spotting the slender young woman carefully cutting through a glass case with her claws.

"You're right, Selina would have gone through the top of the case."

Dick sighed, "No, Tim, I mean, look… they're different physically… you know… booby-wise."

Barbara threw him and icy glare that would have sent Bruce running for cover, "Excuse me?"

"No," he tried to defend his observation, "It's not like that… this girl is young, right, maybe an A-cup and we all know Selina has---."

"Richard," she growled.

When he looked to me for support, I shook my head silently. He finally grumbled, "Never mind… I'm going to go out and see if someone will shoot at me."

"You do that," Barbara growled before returning her attention to the screen.

Once he had sought refuge outside of the Clocktower, I rose from the chair beside Barbara and stretched my arms and back. I had dropped by a little after six to spar with Dick and had then stayed after to look through footage Barbara had hacked into featuring our new feline foe.

Luckily no cat related details had made it into the papers yet so at least Bruce and especially Selina would be unaware of our new nocturnal nuisance. With them returning the next day, I had finally convinced myself to confront the young girl. If she was still in Gotham when the former Catwoman returned, I feared there would be a redefinition of catfight.

One that neither current nor former Batman would be able to prevent.

"Cass managed to get a tracking pin on her last night when she was leaving the art gallery on Hudson so at least we'll be able to corner her tonight…" Barbara said as she brought up a grid that mapped out Gotham from an aerial view. She used it each night to maintain our locations and to help provide routes that steered clear of heavy late night traffic.

Our girl was in the East End heading west at a slow pace, most likely on foot. From what I had seen, as well as Nightwing and Batgirl, she was almost worthy of the mask she wore given her agility and stealth. In the ten burglaries she had performed, she had left not one viable piece of evidence behind aside from the seventeen seconds of security footage…

Of which she wasted two seconds blowing a kiss to the camera.

Everything about her reminded me of Selina when she had worn the guise. Although I had known her long after she had become a figure of interest to Bruce, I still wondered what it had been like back when they both had first started out. I couldn't help but think of how many times I had seen her get the best of Bruce when he still wore the cowl, and that had been a decade after they had first started chasing each other on rooftops.

Dick's story about how Batman had pinned her down on a roof one night and ordered him to round up evidence always brought a smile to my lips.

"Heading out?" Barbara asked.

I cleared my throat, "Might as well… The sooner I can talk to her the better."

She sat back and smiled up at me, "I still like Cass's idea, let Selina and her fight it out."

"As much as I would love to see that… as well as about eighty million YouTube users… I'd rather give her a chance to bail on her own… And if she doesn't… then I guess it will have to be a Animal Planet showdown."

"Meow," she laughed and returned her gaze to the computer screens in front of her.

Since I had taken the Honda over to the Clocktower, I stopped by the Townhouse before heading to the Sat-Cave. After parking in the garage, I ran inside quick to let Robbie out before leaving him home alone for the night. I was surprised to see the lights on in most of the rooms of the first floor and Robbie's crate empty.

Following Cass's voice, I found her and the dog in the kitchen sharing a roast beef sandwich. When she spotted me, Cass smiled and asked, "Were you going to finish this?"

I shook my head and closed the space between us, reaching down to scratch Robbie behind the ears, "No, that's all right, he needs it more than I do… our growing boy."

Robbie licked his lips and then stared intently at the small wedge of sandwich left in Cass's hands. She took a bite, offered the last morsel to me and when I declined, she held it above Robbie and said, "Sit pretty."

The dog planted his haunches on the tiled floor and then slowly brought his front end up off the ground, letting his paws rest on the sides of his chest. She rewarded him with the last bite of which he didn't even bother chewing.

"Ready?" she asked without looking up.

I nodded, "Yeah I just had to drop the car off and let him out… but I didn't know you were still here."

Cass finally looked up at me and smiled, "Sorry… cat-nap."

After smiling back I let out a low laugh. Although the jewel thief was in fact a criminal preying on businesses of Gotham, we had been fairly light-hearted about it all week and been loose and free with the jokes. With Bruce and Selina returning, the humor honeymoon was over.

I snuck in a quick kiss before scratching Robbie's head one more time, "I'll meet you on Madison for cocoa at eleven-thirty."

"It's a date," she replied.

As I made my way to the Sat-Cave on foot, I mentally mapped out my evening. A quick tour of midtown followed by the theatre district just as the evening performances let out. After any altercations there, I was to move into the diamond district and wait for a game of cat and…

Bat.

As I worked through the beginning of patrols, I tried to figure out the best way to confront this girl without things getting carried away. No doubt she idolized Catwoman, not only evident in her costume but her methods as well. I had gone back through some of the earliest logs and files Bruce had on Selina when she still prowled the rooftops, the resemblances were uncanny.

While pummeling a mugger who had snagged a couple leaving a performance of Equus, I figured the best approach was to be stern and scary right from the beginning. There would no doubt be a physical confrontation, some attempted distraction of her trying to seduce me followed by a chase of some sort only to conclude when she realized I wasn't playing along.

Or something like that.

With twenty minutes before I had planned to meet Batgirl for a mid-patrol break, I checked in with Oracle on the current location of our girl. She responded immediately, "Two blocks west, the Harris gallery. You're practically stepping on her tail… sorry, that was a bad one."

I allowed myself a fraction of a smirk, "No, it was very good," before signing off. It took less than five minutes to reach the roof of the Harris gallery, of which was displaying a jewelry collection from Paris for the week. I approached one of the darkened skylights and peered down to see a lithe figure standing beside a display case.

Rather than crashing in to scare her, I chose the silent method. After picking the lock and disarming the electric alarm signal, I dropped the two stories to a spot fifty feet behind her. Since the gallery often housed massive pieces of art and sculptures, it appeared empty and cavernous with only a dozen or so glass display cases.

With her focus intently directed at cutting into a case holding a number of ruby pendants, I closed the distance between us silently. With less than a yard between us, I spoke quietly, putting an extra growl in, "The gallery closed at seven-thirty."

She spun around, dropping a handful of pendants as she reached to her right hip, retrieving a retractable nightstick before taking a swing at my head. I latched out and grasped it before twisting it sharp enough to free it from her hand. Instead of reaching for her other hip where the bullwhip was, she instead flung out a clawed hand at me, missing my chest by a good eight inches.

I took another step closer, bringing me into the faint moonlight. It was then that her form softened and a smile stretched over her lips, "Hey there, handsome. Come here often?" It would have been amusing save for the fear in her voice.

"I am going to give you three options," I growled.

"Please tell me one of them includes us keeping the masks on," she moved forward and reached out to touch my face.

I snatched her wrist and twisted it down against her hip, "This is not a game."

"Party pooper…" she grinned up at me with the confidence of a lioness but her hand quivered in mine. As I looked over her face carefully, I realized she couldn't have been more than eighteen years old.

"Your first option is to turn yourself in."

"Pass."

"Second, I take you in."

"Now that sounds like fun---."

I interrupted her and increased the pressure on her wrist, "Third, you continue what you're doing."

"I'll take door number three," she blew me a kiss before stomping down in the instep of my left foot with a stiletto heel. Although it stung, it wasn't enough to cause me to let go and when she spun to run away, I strode forward after her and managed to grab onto her other wrist, pinning them behind her back in one of my hands. "That's okay, I like it---."

"You didn't let me finish explaining your third option." She looked up at me; a hint of fear now making it's way into her hazel eyes. "You can continue what you're doing but… Tomorrow night, the real Catwoman will be back in Gotham City. And when she finds out what you've been doing…"

"But she's been gone for years, I thought that---."

Oracle buzzed in my ears, "I've got her image running the data banks right now, try and keep your face aimed at hers."

I locked my gaze with her and said, "Gotham is her home, but cat's like to expand their territory… But she will be back tomorrow and when she finds out what you've been doing… even I won't be able to save you."

She stammered, "You're joking, you're just trying to scare me…"

"Am I? Why do you think she's the one criminal I can't catch?"

There was a moment where I thought she was going to start crying but instead she managed to say, "Well, what's fair is fair… she can have Gotham, I'll just get my own city and---."

Oracle chimed in again, "Alexandria Marie Townsend. Eighteen years old, spent six months in Juvie for stealing from her neighbor… four thousand in jewels and another couple of grand worth of sculptures and art... Lives on North Cutter and 134th with her mother, Jane Townsend-Carter and her stepfather David Carter. She's been on a missing persons watch for the last twety-four hours…"

I leaned in closer to her, my face inches from hers, "And she'll find you. Wherever you go, she'll hunt you down. She'll always be watching… Is it worth it, Alex?"

Her eyes doubled in size, "How did you…"

"Because I'm always watching, too."

^V^

"You're not mad at me."

"Oh, really?"

"No, you're not."

"And why do you think that, oh great detective?"

As Mattie and Nathan slept through the last hour of the plane ride back to Gotham, I sat with Selina in the private bedroom watching her try to read a magazine. She had been reading it since we had taken off from Colorado, doing her best to ignore me. Naturally, she had taken the pillows and propped herself up to sit while she read, leaving me to sit against the headboard.

I leaned over at the page that was open, "I scored as a Doting Dude on the Is He Devoted? quiz. If you were truly mad at me, I would have been a Lame Flame."

She tried not to smile as she turned the page, "Well, don't get your hopes up quite yet, you were a Close but No Cigar on the Intimacy quiz."

"Oh really?" I asked as I moved closer to her.

She held up a finger without looking at me and said, "I can't guarantee the welfare of whatever part of you that touches me right now."

I kissed her cheek and felt a sudden stabbing just below my bottom lip. When I quickly pulled back I saw that she had used her pen as an impromptu dagger.

As I reached up to touch my chin, she sighed, "You're not bleeding."

Moving back away from her, I replied, "Yet."

Thankfully, I hadn't instigated trouble until the trip had been nearly over. I could only imagine how miserable my life would have been had Selina found the copy of the will earlier in the week. Not that I had intended to do so in the first place…

A vast majority of the conflicts that came up between Selina and I boiled down to our very different views as to what was normal and what wasn't. I found the time on the plane as an opportunity to finally look over the will in order to make necessary adjustments, then I would be able to fax my notes back to my lawyers in Gotham so I would be able to enjoy the vacation without the task looming over my head.

Selina had seen it as a morose and monstrous deed and had done her best to remind me of my ill choice of action since she had discovered it.

Again, different views.

With the kids in bed when Selina had confronted me, it had been easier to put everything out there in explaining my view on the matter. I had lost a dear friend, one to whom I had bequeathed certain things to that now needed to be assigned to someone else. Most notably the future Mr. and Mrs. James Gordon, Jr. Not to mention a college fund to help provide for their daughter's formal education. After I had explained everything to Selina, I could tell she was no longer angry with me, but simply upset that I hadn't informed her before I had acted.

Knowing this, I proceeded through the remainder of the vacation making sure Selina knew my every move. When I told her I was going to brush my teeth after breakfast on the last day, she threw a winter boot at me, "All right, I give up!"

For the plane ride home, Mattie and Nathan chose to watch a few movies, both exhausted from their week on the mountain. Mattie had graduated from a beginner status on the snowboard well into the intermediate novice ranking and had gone down several of the fairly advanced slopes with me. Nathan's week had been very active; from skiing to sledding, to hockey and snowshoeing. They even went on a dog sled ride across the lake in town, of which had him pleading for a husky for the rest of the week.

Although I had all intentions of tackling the most heinous slope on the mountain, a treacherous double black diamond course that had sent someone to the hospital in a helicopter our first day there, I had settled for the single black diamond that still had me facing a few close calls. The morning after I had navigated the slope, I had trouble getting out of bed.

Selina had smiled and said, "Serves you right."

After which she rubbed my shoulders and back down with liniment.

She loved me.

Not convinced she was truly going to inflict harm upon me, at least not to the point where we would have to make an emergency landing, I rolled over to stand on my hands and knees above her. Without even looking up from the page she was pretending to read, Selina muttered, "If you'd only learn…"

"If at first you don't succeed," I began as I went in to kiss her neck. It was then I felt sharp French tips place themselves at my carotid.

"If you 'try, try again' I'll be needing that will of yours before we land." The growl in her voice was only countered by the amusement in her eyes.

With every inch I moved closer to touching her, her grasp on my throat tightened. As I made contact, I couldn't breathe. Luckily it didn't take long to distract her and by the time I had her ear lobe in my teeth, she had released her hold just enough to allow oxygen to pass through. Rather than warning me again, her lips occupied themselves on my throat, gently biting where she had been pinching moments earlier.

I heard her throw the magazine on the floor just before I felt her hands on my hips. Just as I was about to make a joke about the Mile High Club, I heard a soft rapping at the bedroom door before Mattie's muffled voice, "Dad, the DVD is skipping."

Although I growled a curse, Selina laughed quietly, "Close but no cigar…"

I kissed her once more, feeling her smile grow under my lips. After reluctantly rising from the bed, I crossed the room and unlocked the door before opening, "Well, how much is left on the movie?"

Mattie answered, "The credits… but I want to watch them, and they have that little fish at the end that eats that big pilot fish…"

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that Selina was making herself more comfortable by removing the pillows from behind her so she could lie down. Close but no…

I left the door opened and followed my daughter into the small recreation area of the plane's rear cabin. Nathan was passed out on one of the seats, a stuffed snow leopard in his grasp. I looked up to see that the DVD had stuck just after Marlin the father fish had sent his son Nemo off to school, alongside a baby sea turtle, sea horse and dozen other ocean dwelling creatures. I had seen the movie well over a dozen times and had unfortunately memorized it from start to finish.

As I removed the DVD and checked it for scratches, Mattie asked, "Were you getting dressed, Dad, is that why the door was locked?"

"Excuse me?' I questioned before putting the disc back in the drive. When the menu came up, I chose Scene Selection before skipping towards the end of the movie.

Mattie took a seat behind me, pulling a blanket over her legs, "Well, your belt's undone."

Just as the credits began to roll to the tune of Beyond the Sea, I glanced down to see that my belt and the button of my jeans had been undone, without any recollection of them being touched in the three and a half minutes I had been kissing my wife. Sneaky thief…

As I quickly secured them, I turned around, "Sorry, but yes, I wanted to change before we landed… Do you want to change?"

She grinned at me and said, "No, I'm okay… Is Mom changing too?"

"Mattie…" I growled lightly as she began to giggle.

When I returned to the rear of the small private jet, I found Selina on the phone and from the look on her face, she was back to pretending to be angry with me. Rather than initiate more trouble for myself, I decided to check through to make sure all of our carry-on baggage was ready for when we landed.

Even though she wasn't listening to me, I excused myself before returning to Mattie and Nathan, "All right, let's make sure everything's packed up… We'll be landing---."

A soft chime sounded on the overhead speakers before Andrew Koening, my pilot for most corporate jaunts, announced, "Mr. Wayne, we'll be arriving at Gotham International in twenty minutes."

Although we arrived at the airport on time, it was a bit of a traffic jam on the private runways. We toured about the sky for another fifteen minutes before making a final approach. Selina, Nathan and Mattie pretended to be on a roller coaster, their arms up over their heads as they cried out. With some prodding by Selina, I joined them.

As our luggage was being unloaded, I went to retrieve the car as well as hot chocolate for the kids. They were going to meet me at the private strip pick-up zone that was almost a quarter of a mile from the parking garage. Alfred had offered to pick us up but I told him I didn't want to interrupt his Sunday afternoon. After he harrumphed on the phone for another minute, he had wished me a safe flight home.

I decided to pick up the cocoa before the car, that way it would be able to cool down a bit before they drank it and burnt their tongues. There were a multitude of coffee places in the main area of the airport, but I settled on a Starbucks that was just before the entrance to the parking garage. The line was less than eight people and knowing the flair and speed the barristas had, it wouldn't be too long of a wait.

Just as I went to reach for my cell to call Alfred to tell him we had arrived, I felt it buzzing in my pocket. After retrieving it, I saw Dick's name on the Caller ID. I answered with a quick, "Yes?"

"Hey, are you on the ground yet?"

"For about twenty minutes now."

"Good, good… Selina and Barbara were talking for like a half hour… sounds like it was a good trip."

I went to respond when I felt a slight amount of pressure in my jacket's side pocket.

Without moving, I used my peripheral vision to see a young man standing just behind me to the left, his eyes locked dead ahead and his face far too concentrated to be worrying about coffee.

Finally, I replied, "It was great, the kids really enjoyed themselves."

"I bet…" he replied. For some reason, his voice reminded me of when he had lied about finishing his homework as a young boy. Just as the pickpocket managed to snag a finger on my wallet, I reached back just as he was beginning to retreat with his prize. My fingers were like steel as they grabbed onto his, and I felt two of his knuckles pop as they let go of my wallet. When he made a quiet yelp, I turned around and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, did I cut ahead of you in line?"

The man, or rather teenaged boy, clutched his fingers before shaking his head and running off. I heard Dick ask what had happened, and I replied, "Nothing, just getting some cocoa for the kids."

"Yeah, damn cold today… I keep trying to convince myself spring is on its way…"

"Only because it's your birthday," I replied quietly. "So, anything happen this week?"

He cleared his throat, something else he did when he was lying to me, "No… Not really."

"So the cat thief has been taken care of then?"

Even if he had been able to sell his lie more smoothly, I had already spoken with Barbara about the Catwoman situation. With it being resolved, I had planned on waiting to tell Selina but after the will incident, I was forced to tell her earlier that morning before we had left. She had only hissed and growled for twenty minutes before I assured her Tim had sent her packing.

"Oh, like you sent me packing?" she had asked before rolling here eyes, "No matter, if she turns up again, I'll make sure to de-claw her."

Meow.

Dick stammered on the other end of the line, "How… how did you…"

Thinking back to the conversation Barbara had played for me of Tim's encounter with the young imposter, I smiled, "…I'm always watching."

^V^


	27. What Lies Ahead: XXVII

Title: What Lies Ahead: XXVII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: An escaped inmate from Arkham wreaks havoc amongst the Family.

Author's Note: There is a reference in Tim's POV to events in my Nightwing one-shot My Father's Words. It's not necessary for you to have read it before this chapter but it won't hurt if you have the time.

^V^

"Mattie, don't you have something to tell your father?"

We were celebrating the last day of school, most notably Mattie's last day in elementary school and Nathan's last day of pre-school, with dinner on the rear terrace for Bruce, the kids and myself. Although it was a peaceful night in Wayne Manor, it was anything but in the city limits of Gotham. The serial killer Victor Zsasz had escaped Arkham Asylum after killing five staff members earlier that afternoon. Although no sightings of him had been reported, I knew it wasn't going to take long before his blood lust needed to be sated.

Even though Bruce had found out about Zsasz earlier that day, Mattie hadn't found out until she had seen it on the evening news reports. She had instantly gone to Bruce, asking him a barrage of questions. I had expected him to lose his cool with her but to my surprise he offered enough information to sate her curiosity. When she finally asked if she could look at cases involving him, Bruce told her that she needed to pick out something to wear for graduation and get ready for dinner.

To try and maintain normalcy, Mattie had helped Alfred prepare the breaded pork cutlets with chutney to go along with a citrus beet salad. With her entering middle school in the fall, I was fairly confident she would leave her home economics teacher in awe. Although she had always seemed wise beyond her years, in the seven months that had lapsed since Bruce had told her about his life as Batman, it had seemed that she had matured even more. Outwardly, she was still the same normal young girl, goofing around with friends on the weekends, loving on her horse every moment she was at the barn and of course fighting with her little brother over the inconsequential.

But even though she still seemed the same on the outside, there was no denying that something had changed on the inside.

Any chance she could bat her baby blue eyes at him, Mattie had Bruce in the Cave, whether it was to play with the gymnastics equipment or read up on the world of crime fighting on the computer. Initially, I had expected Bruce to share in his daughter's newfound enthusiasm. But where Mattie was so eager to learn something new about him each day, Bruce seemed to grow fearful of giving her that knowledge.

One night in April, Bruce had confided in me that he had created a monster by telling her the truth.

I had tried to ease his suffering by replying, "Just wait until you tell your son."

To try and distance himself from personally encouraging any dreams of vigilantism, Bruce allowed Mattie to work with Cassandra once a week. Saturday afternoons were always filled with my daughter tumbling down the hallways and practicing roundhouses on the staircase banisters. In order to help tune down her enthusiasm, we agreed Terry could join Mattie in her lessons, to act as deterrent from her getting out of hand in front of someone outside the Family. Although Mattie had begun to learn martial arts for fun, Terry had done so to help booster his self-esteem, of which his father couldn't thank us enough for.

Bruce, who had just taken a bite of the pork, looked at his daughter; his jaw working slower than it had been before I had spoken.

I looked over at Mattie as well and smiled at her, "Well?"

She put her fork down and nibbled at her lower lip for a fraction of a second before saying, "Um… I'm getting a Principal's Medal graduation tomorrow."

"That's… that's fantastic," Bruce replied, "How did you… I mean I knew there were academic and athletic awards, but what does this entail exactly?"

Mattie picked up her fork again and stabbed a cube of roasted beet, "Well, they still have the other awards and certificates but… the medals are given to only one student in each grade for math, science, art, English and athletics… And then there's an Outstanding Student Medal for whoever excelled in all of them…" The look of pride that was practically beaming on my husband's face doubled when Mattie said, "That's the one I'm getting..."

His gaze flashed back and forth between our daughter and myself, "Well... That's great, kitten… hard work always pays off."

"With something shiny if you're lucky," I smirked, rubbing Bruce's shin with my foot under the table as he threw a glare at me.

Mattie laughed, "Right… But it's nothing too fancy, not like the medal Colt and I won in May."

I felt my own smile growing thinking of the four day long Quarter Horse show Mattie had participated in with Coltrane Memorial Day weekend. She had shown in almost every class offered in the Youth Amateur Division for ages thirteen and under, both Western and English. By the end of the weekend she had earned top five placings in fourteen of her sixteen classes and took the reserve high point award for her division, which included a silver medal, a bronze statue and an embroidered blanket for Coltrane.

Dick had joked at the show that Mattie was going to need her own trophy section of the Cave at the rate she was going.

Bruce had not been amused.

As Bruce began to question Mattie about the award, Nathan slipped off of his chair and walked over to me, setting his hands on my thigh as he looked up and pouted, "I'm full."

"You are?" I asked, "Too full for ice cream?" He nodded before leaning forward, resting his head in my lap face first. "Do you want to go upstairs?" He shook his head no. I set a hand on his mop of black hair and said, "Well, we're almost done, kiddo, you want to go play in the den?"

Another headshake.

"Want to sit on my lap?"

Finally, a nod.

In a flash, he went from full on mope to giggling on my lap, shielding himself behind my napkin as he held it over his face. Bruce glanced over and smirked, "And what about you, tiger? Anything fun today?"

Nathan peered out from hiding, "Nope."

I leaned forward and said, "No? Your last day of pre-school wasn't fun?"

"Nope," he giggled louder when he felt my fingers on his neck.

As I tickled behind his ears, I asked, "Not even when you had your face painted?"

Finally, he confessed with a grin and, "Little fun."

After dinner, I took Nathan upstairs to wash up and change for bed. Just as I had him dressed in kangaroo patterned pajamas, of which had encouraged him to jump on his little exercise trampoline, Bruce knocked on the doorframe. Before I could say anything, Nathan leapt off of the trampoline and bounded towards his father, "The wond-ahful thing about Tigg-ahs is Tigg-ahs ah a wond-ahful thing."

As Bruce lifted his son, he smirked and added, "Their tops are made out of rubber and their bottoms," he patted his son's rear loudly, "Are made out of springs."

Nathan giggled and bounced in Bruce's arms, "They-uh bouncy pouncy bouncy pouncy fun fun fun!" I rose to my feet just as he finished the little song, "The wond-ahful thing about Tigg-ahs is that I'm the only one!"

If only the criminals of Gotham knew that the former Batman, the man who had made them cower in fear with the slightest of efforts, knew the words to the Tigger Song….

As he set Nathan back down Bruce finally spoke to me, "I'll tuck him in… Mattie wants to see you in her room."

"I thought we were going to watch a movie downstairs after he was in bed?" I asked as I glanced back to see Nathan was once more bouncing on the trampoline with an exuberance that said there was no sign of sleep in his near future.

He shrugged, "We helped clear the table until Alfred chased us out of the kitchen… and then when we went into the den to pick out a movie she ran towards the door and said for me to find you and send you to her room."

I glanced again at our son who was jumping higher than his bed. "Seems like I get the easy child tonight… Good luck," I leaned in and kissed his cheek before heading out the door.

After making my way down the hall towards the stairs, I paused in front of Mattie's closed bedroom door. After I made a few soft knocks, she called out, "Mom?"

When I went to turn the doorknob I expected it to be locked, but it wasn't. Often when Mattie waned to talk in private, she locked her door, despite the fact that Bruce was not keen on it. But I too knew the sanctity of seclusion.

I was in her room with her for less than eight minutes before I headed to the master bedroom to grab my purse and a pair of shoes. When I passed Nathan's open door on my way back towards the stairs, Bruce called out, "Where are you going?"

I looked back to see him stepping into the hallway. After shrugging, I replied, "Oh, I just have to run to the store quick, I'll be right back."

"It's almost nine," he stated, as it was my curfew.

"I just have to go to drugstore. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"Why?"

I suppose it was my own damned fault for marrying a detective… "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation.

I leaned in and kissed his cheek, "Well unless you have bat-feminine products in your utility belt, I need to go the drugstore."

"Feminine…" he echoed, "For what?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the confusion that engulfed his face, "For you daughter, genius. She's a woman now."

^V^

"You just popped in the Kanye West Get Right for the Summer workout tape," I sang to myself as I sized up a jump across a dark alleyway. I took a few running steps and continued, "And ladies, if you follow these instructions exactly you might be able to pull you a rapper, a NBA player..." Once I was airborne, I tucked myself twice before landing in a somersault. "Or at least a dude with a car…"

When I rose to my feet, I sighed at the gray smudge that had formed on my right hip, "Damnit, pigeon poo."

Although I had intended on patrolling in Bludhaven that evening, I found myself touring the rooftops of Gotham instead, covering slack while Batman did his best to hunt down Zsasz. Although the self-mutilating murdering monster had been contained for the last decade, he had managed to slay two guards, two nurses and a janitor after a therapy session with a psychiatrist. For over ten years he was nothing more than a feral dog, locked up, lead around by a collar with metal poles and the one time they let their guard down, he was able to add five hash marks to his flesh in less than fifteen minutes.

Fortunately when the words "Arkham Asylum" and "escape" combined on the evening news, the city always self-enforced a dusk curfew after stocking their kitchens, checking their revolvers in the study and boarding up their windows. Not that I could blame them. How many lives had been lost to madmen roaming the streets? Practically incalculable.

Well, at least Zsasz kept score.

Of all the criminals we faced, there were only a select few that truly made me fearful. The Joker, who was thankfully still snoozing away his multiple life sentences. Bane, who was selling himself as a flunky last I heard. And Zsasz.

He didn't kill for money or because someone told him to or even for a laugh. He killed to save people from their zombie human form. At least with the Joker you could beat the crap out of him or even insult him until he grew furious enough to become careless. Hell, even Bane could be crippled even with his dependency on Venom.

But Zsasz was another story.

I found myself a mugging in progress to interrupt when I heard my wife's voice on the comm. link, "Double homicide in the Bowery, looks like Z's work. Boss is going to look into it, can you handle things?"

Her abbreviated words and the exhaustion in her voice deterred me from cracking a joke. So instead, I knocked out the mugger with one hard blow to the back of the head and replied, "We're under control. I need a pick up in the Patterson hotel alleyway."

"Will do," before abruptly signing off.

As much as I loved Barbara, I did not love a cranky Barbara. Since February, she had seemed to grow more distant from the woman I had married. Our bickering and playful banter over the comm. link had been reduced to brief snippets to break the tension when it became overwhelming. I had tried to breach the subject with her a number of times, trying to get a feel for whether she was upset at me or at life or whatever but she always managed to fake a smile and say that she was okay.

At least when Bruce used to lie he didn't waste time with the smile.

I had a feeling it was about losing her father, but with her steering me away from talking about what was bothering her, I opted to let her work through things alone. Not the most chivalrous approach but over the years I had spent at her side, I knew it was sometimes better to let things be. After all, she still had a beastly right uppercut.

Even before she had been paralyzed, she had been brilliantly independent, taking on the guise of Batgirl with a confidence I was envious of at the time. Where she boldly argued with Batman about her ability to fight crime, I was still trying to convince him to let me listen to the radio in the Mobile during the drive home. It was that very fire within her that I fell in love with and after all these years it burned just as brightly as it had back then.

Except now I was beginning to fear that the flame was starting to flicker.

There was nothing I held more dearly in my life that seeing her smile.

And not that fake one she had been flashing me for the last few months.

I finished patrols three hours later, not once speaking with her. I caught up with the double homicide when I ran into Batman just north of the Bowery. There hadn't been much in the way of evidence at the scene but the vicious throat slashes and posthumous arranging of bodies screamed Victor Zsasz. Even though the killer had only been on the loose one night, I could already see the frustration and fury in my ally's face.

Before we went separate ways, I said, "Hey, can I ask you something?"

There was a barely noticeable change in his expression, followed by, "Make it quick."

Apparently it was not a good time for man chatting, "Never mind… I'll see you tomorrow, right, for the graduation."

He looked away from me for a moment, "I'm not sure I'm going… not with Zsasz…"

When he didn't finish, I nodded and began to turn away, "I understand…" When I glanced back to make sure he was gone, I added, "And sadly enough, so will Mattie."

I was sneaking into the Clocktower not twenty minutes later, knowing full well that Gotham's guardian would be prowling for another few hours. I would have been at it myself if my mind wasn't being pulled in a dozen directions. From personal and witnessed accounts, it was best not to face off with a serial killer when your focus was on more domestic affairs.

"Babs?" I called out as I walked through the den. As I made my way to the kitchen, I pulled off my mask, boots and gloves. After a quick snack, I would be a hot shower and a pair of flannel pants away from burrowing into bed. With Mattie's graduation at ten the next morning, I was unfortunately missing out on my customary Saturday snooze fest.

But for Mattie, I'd do far much more.

Frank, always eager to share in a snack no matter what the time, raced into the kitchen just as I opened the refrigerator door. After finishing off the steak tips and paella we had for dinner more than eight hours earlier, I made my way to the master bedroom in absolute darkness. He followed me into the room and managed to defy gravity in a single bound in order to jump on the bed. Barbara had turned down the covers but was nowhere in sight. No doubt she would be up just as long as Batman.

I showered and shaved, both of which would save me fifteen minutes of prep time in the morning. When I began brushing my teeth, I heard Barbara enter the bedroom with a heavy sigh. Mouth minty and filled with froth, I leaned out the bathroom door and smiled, expecting her to ignore my antics.

When she smirked at me and headed towards the bureau, I took it as a sign of life.

After rinsing and wiping my mouth, I hit the lights and joined her in the bedroom. I watched on as she searched the contents of a drawer of her pajamas, "Might I recommend the blue silks?"

She glanced back briefly before retrieving a set of cotton pajamas the color of coffee ice cream.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," I said quietly as I sat on the bed facing away from her. Frank had already mused the comforter and formed a small French Bulldog sized nest in the middle of the bed. As Babs made her way towards the bathroom to wash up and change, I rose and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, "Babs, wait… Can we talk?"

"Can I change first?" she asked with a slight smirk.

"No," I began before kneeling in front of her, "I've put this off all year…"

"Then a few minutes won't hurt, Dick," she said while reaching up to pat my face.

"Babs… Barbara… is there something wrong? I mean… did I do something wrong?"

She sat back in the chair and sighed, "No… it's nothing… I just have a lot on my mind."

"Well, two minds are better than one, even if it's my mere man mind compared to your brilliantly superior woman mind," I tried a smile but it lacked any form of conviction. "Listen, if you want to talk about it---."

"It's okay, Dick… Really," the quiver in her voice said otherwise.

"You're a terrible liar, almost as bad as me. You telling me that everything's okay when it's not is like me telling Alfred I had nothing to do with the sudden disappearance of that pecan pie last Thanksgiving."

Finally, a real smirk, "If you let me change, we can talk."

"Into the blue silks."

"Don't push it, Grayson."

Clad in cotton, she returned and got into bed, scratching Frank's head as he gurgled in his sleep. Once I sat beside her, she reached over and entwined her fingers with mine, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you… about what's been going on… with me."

"I know I've asked this of you before… but please don't tell me you're a man."

She smiled briefly before continuing as if she hadn't heard my lame joke, "Since Trey made us his son's godparents… and with baby Sarah… I started to think that maybe it was time… for us."

I broke out in a grin as I squeezed her hand, "That's great… but why have you been so distant… I mean, shouldn't we be working together to---."

"I can't have a baby, Dick… After the Joker shot me, I had my uterus removed… but I had eggs harvested just in case. Initially I had planned on asking Selina to be my surrogate but after Nathan was born… I kind of put it aside for a while but then with Jim having a baby and Dad dying… I talked about it with Selina in February and we both thought that Cassandra might---."

"Why did you talk to Selina and not me?"

She withdrew her hand and looked down at Frank, "I guess… I wanted to know what she thought… if it would be worth it… I mean if Cass was the surrogate, she would have to give up a year of her life to---."

I moved to kneel in front of her, "Barbara… You can't possibly ask her to do that."

With her eyes locked onto mine she replied, "Dick, there's no one else I would trust with our baby."

Without a thought, I replied, "We don't need to _have_ a baby to have a baby, Barbara."

"What do you mean?"

I leaned in and kissed her softly, whispering in her ear, "I'm not the poster boy for adoptions but…"

^V^

The last time Zsasz had reared his hideous head in Gotham City, he had been celebrating his thousandth hash mark by taking a party hostage in one of Gotham's finer hotels. Batman had intervened, broken the psychopath's jaw and left him for the authorities. But where Zsasz left on a gurney to the secure wing of Mercy for emergency surgery, Batman had stumbled his way to the Free Clinic, bleeding profusely from an inch deep gash that crossed his torso in addition to a deeply penetrating stab wound that nicked a branch off of the renal artery. Leslie managed to stitch Bruce up but when he had ripped internal sutures during his first day of recovery, he had nearly bled to death in Dick's arms after collapsing in the Cave.

I had survived my encounter with Zsasz in a marginally better condition.

After my brief minute with Nightwing, I returned to the crime scene for a third look. On my first visit, Kelsey had been on the scene, looking a bit put off that the recent escapee had already claimed civilian lives. I would have told her that the body count would be in double digits before the weekend was out but it never seemed beneficial to dampen her mood.

Instead, I appeared out of a dark hallway, scared her heart rate over ninety beats per minute and then toured the house before the forensic team came in and messed everything up. With no practical evidence and the bodies screaming Zsasz's handiwork, I left to tour the neighboring area, hoping against all odds to find his blood thirsty figure lurking about, savoring the recent kill.

My second visit was done just after forensics left. Alone, I was able to recreate the murders in a dark, twisted corner of my mind that I kept locked away. Although he favored young women, Zsasz often struck out at random individuals, trying to release them from their zombie state. The couple he had chosen that night had been in their mid-thirties, just getting home from a night on the town. Thankfully, their two children had been spending the night at their grandmother's in Bryanttown.

A marked piece of evidence on the kitchen counter was a bag of two partially eaten entrees from a nice Italian place Cass and I had been to several times.

Last meal, I thought as a sick feeling rose in my stomach.

There hadn't been much in the way of a struggle; only the husband had defense wounds. The wife had been taken down while running up the stairs, her blood showering over the white walls and slate blue carpeting. Once Zsasz had "saved" them, he had positioned them in the kitchen at a small oak table.

Holding hands.

The third visit had been brief, just a quick tour of the area and a longing look at the dark house dressed with yellow barrier tape. I had almost convinced myself to tour the house once more when Oracle had contacted me, "You still at it?"

"Yes."

"Well… anything I can run for you?"

"What'd we get out of the autopsy reports?"

"Not finished yet. I'll send them to you once Dr. Travis has them logged in to the system." She tried to hide a yawn before saying, "Well, Dick's here… I guess he's through. Cass is still touring Gotham Village… said things have been pretty hot downtown despite the Z scare."

I growled quietly, "With him in our sights, they think they can get away with it."

"Thick as thieves… speaking of thieves, you'll never who guess who showed up in Miami's police Blotter today… I'll give you a hint---."

"I don't need one," I replied. The new Catwoman that had tried to take on the elite of Gotham had been a suspect in a number of robberies traveling down the East Coast. Although she was good, better than average, she was not anywhere near the caliber that her idol was. Although I had practically let her go after she committed her crimes in Gotham, I knew it was only a matter of time before she found herself in over her head.

Dick had joked at his birthday dinner back in March that it was a Batman thing, letting Catwoman get away.

I would have laughed at the time had Bruce not been standing behind me.

And Selina behind him.

Bruce had taken the imposter in stride but Selina had been furious. That was until we had listed off her feline accomplishments, of which had brought a bizarre smirk to her face. I couldn't help but wonder at the time if she was thinking what it would be like if her daughter had stepped into her stilettos…

"Well, if there's nothing else, I'm calling it quits."

"Fine," I replied, returning my focus on a villain far more vile than Catwoman.

Alone again, I slowly made my way back to the Mobile. With a misinformed forecast of heavy rain, I had opted in taking the drive to Bristol to retrieve the car as well as to speak with Bruce about Zsasz. I had little experience with bringing him down and unfortunately Bruce had enough for the both of us. I still remembered when Bane had released the inmates of Arkham, I had gone to the Bates School where Zsasz had holed up, prepared to slay a room full of young women. Batman had ordered me out, telling me to follow the three stooges who were helping Bane instead of helping him.

No doubt because I was safer facing off with them than with Zsasz.

Before heading to the Cave, I had dropped by my father's house to visit with him and Dana before using the underground passageway from Dad's house to under Wayne Manor. I had expected the cavern to be dark and empty but Bruce had already been at the computer talking with Barbara while reviewing the reports coming in on the escape.

A year earlier, he was barely in the Cave, trying to leave behind his life once more after falling while in the guise of Matches Malone. Since telling Mattie the truth about his and all of our lives, there was hardly a night I made it to the Cave that he wasn't down there with her. As much as I was relieved he finally told her the truth, I couldn't help but see the brightness in her eyes whenever she looked into the costume vault or sat at the main computer console's single chair.

At least Alfred had gone back to bringing down cookies and hot cocoa with the late night sandwiches and coffee.

Without Oracle at my ear, I tuned my headset to the police scanner, morbidly hoping for another report of a homicide. Bruce's advice had focused in on following the trail of bodies as they fell, eventually Zsasz would find himself seizing a large group of people. That was when it was best to strike, diverting his already strained attention on to you while the hostages were able to flee for safety.

I had expected the killer to take several days to lose control, not hours.

Just as I was about to contact Batgirl to check on her progress, a call came in over the scanner that a hostage situation was in progress at that all girls Catholic school in the Manchester borough, not two miles from the crime scene in the Bowery. Twenty-two girls between the ages of twelve and fifteen and three aides in charge of the dormitory.

As I sped north through the nearly bare streets, I couldn't help but picture Mattie's face.

Seven new hash marks on his flesh, no doubt red and raw amidst the darkened scars that covered his body. I couldn't allow his blade to mark his flesh once more. Or anyone else's.

With a dozen police and tactical units out front, basking the dark building with floodlights, I snuck in through the rear fire escape, tempted to contact Oracle or at least Batgirl. I opened the line to the Clocktower but when there was no response I moved to Batgirl's line.

Again nothing.

As I selected several Batarangs from my belt, I activated the night vision and began navigating the hallways. I then switched to infrared, not surprised to see cold, empty beds through the open doors. When I turned left, following a sign directing to the floor's recreation room, I heard a faint whimper mere yards ahead. There was a small, huddled form hiding under the water fountain and when she looked up at me, her jaw dropped in a silent scream.

I crouched before her hands out, "I'm not going to hurt you…. Where are the others?"

She was unable to reply verbally but she looked down the wide corridor towards a pair of double doors adorned with a neon flyer announcing that it was the last day of school slumber party.

No boys allowed.

I escorted her back to the fire escape and told her to climb down and walk towards the street with her hands in the air. She never uttered a sound but just as I helped her through the window, she looked back at me and wrapped her arms around my neck.

Just as I approached the rec room, I heard a shrill scream followed by a few dozen cries of terror. Logic said to wait and ascertain what was going on inside the room before barging through the doors, ultimately risking my life and those of the hostages. I could have slipped a camera under the door or even gone through the vents, possibly even through the window if I risked going out on the ledge with a few dozen guns ready to fire down below.

Logic had its place.

And it wasn't outside a room of terrified young girls while a killer preparing to fillet them.

I kicked in the door, causing the screams to return, originating from a huddled group of girls trying to take cover behind plush leather furniture. In the center of the room, standing on a table that held pizza boxes, cupcakes and cans of soda, stood a half-naked Zsasz, his blade red as he pressed it to the throat of one of the aides. As he spun around to face me, his grin spread ear to ear, "Very good… The real hunter has arrived."

"Let her go," I snarled as I brought my hand back beneath my cape, concealing the Batarangs.

"You want her? Come and get her," he replied, pressing the blade deeper into the flesh.

The girl began to go limp in his arms, and I hoped it was from the shock of the situation rather than the severity of her wounds. As Zsasz adjusted his hold on her, I flung the razor sharp bits of metal at him, launching myself at him just as the blades embedded deeply into the knife-wielding forearm. As he tried to recover from the blow, he lost his grip on the limp body and opted to retreat rather than attack me.

I lost a few seconds checking the young woman's vitals before following him into the corridor. A quiet giggle echoed in the vast hall and I reverted back to the infrared to help locate him.

Too little. Too late.

As I carefully moved forward, I caught a flash of movement from behind me and before I could swing around to block the blow, I felt a white hot pain just above my collarbone. I struck him hard enough to crack two of his ribs but by the time he felt it, he had managed to force the blade through a joint in the Dragon Armor on my side before stabbing my arm and slicing out viciously at my throat. As my left arm and chest grew wet and warm, I struck him once more with my right fist, this time square in the jaw.

The pins and plates that had been put in after his last face off with Batman didn't give.

But the bone did.

After he fell to the ground with a sickening thump, I radioed to Kelsey who was most likely out front trying to figure out the best way to spare as many lives as possible. I told her where Zsasz's body would be and that there was one wounded hostage.

Somehow, I managed to make it back to the Mobile, cursing myself that I had parked two blocks away. Getting into the car took far more effort than necessary, mostly because my hands were slippery and cold. Finally in the driver's seat, I activated the car's auto-pilot with a ragged breath, "Leslie."

^V^

The last time I had heard the emergency alarm that indicated an injured vigilante was on its way had been when Bruce had been caught in an explosion in an undercover operation. Since then I had received a number of late night visitors looking for a few stitches or a tetanus booster but more often than not it was to drop off an injured victim.

Or the occasional suspect.

That night, I had managed to finish my duties around eight before being practically evicted by Dana who had taken the night shift. Alfred had suggested an impromptu dinner but I was truly exhausted and doubted I would be pleasant company. He had promptly retorted that I was always pleasant company.

Silly old man.

At any rate, Mattie's elementary school graduation was the following day and I had made all necessary arrangements to be able to watch her receive her certificates of accomplishments and participation. I may have missed many of her fine moments but I was not about to miss her first commencement.

I spent my evening tidying up my small house, working out my schedule for July in addition to reading over a proposal for a new MRI. After a light dinner and a cup of hot cider, I settled in for bed just around eleven, knowing full well I would be unable to sleep for another hour or so.

At ten passed three, the long since dormant alarm toned from beside my alarm clock.

Without turning on the lights, I donned a fresh pair of scrubs, my sneakers and grabbed a light jacket on my way out the front door. I jogged to the Clinic, my heart rate rising only in fear not from the exercise. With no sign of a dark, edgy vehicle when I arrived, I decided to head inside and prepare the spare exam room for the worst.

As I retrieved three units of blood from the main trauma area, I ran into Dana, who was visibly shaken to see me, "Leslie, I thought you had gone home?"

"I did… I have… a patient coming in. I'll tend to him in the back room."

"Him… Batman?" I nodded as I walked by her, headed towards the rear of the clinic. She followed without hesitation, "Nothing's going on out front, I can help."

"No… I…" I was interrupted when the growl of the Batmobile sounded in the rear lot. Without another word, I ran back to the hallway and to the back door. More often than not, a masked figure would have stumbled through the entrance on its own, blood seeping through fingers or temporary bandages. When I wasn't met halfway, it was a good sign how bad things were.

With Dana still at my heels, I threw open the door and told her to get a gurney. The Batmobile's door had slid back and the cowled figure in the driver's seat was slumped over to the right, eyes barely open. Alone, I leaned in and began taking vitals, "Timothy, can you hear me?"

He mumbled something, his breaths becoming more rapid and shallow by the second. Although it would be difficult to explain to Tim later, I was more than thankful that Dana was there for I would have never been able to pull him out of the car on my own. When she returned with the gurney, she hesitated, her face shocked at the sight before her. I told her to grab his arm while I sat him upright in the seat, and then, "All right, one, two three."

Together we lifted him enough to get his torso on the gurney, the fresh blue linens quickly drinking in the blood leaking from his body. Once we had moved his legs as well, I had her push the bed back through the entrance while I began putting pressure on the wounds.

Despite the protective garb, he appeared to have three puncture wounds in addition to a laceration to his throat, just below his Adam's apple. To staunch blood flow, I firmly packed each with cotton four by four's, of which quickly turned from white to red. As we navigated into the exam room, I tried not to think about what his injuries would have been had he been wearing one of the earliest Batsuits…

Without instruction, Dana began to pull off his gloves in order to insert IV catheters into his hand and arm. I went about cutting through the bloodied tunic before unsnapping and removing the body armor that protected his vital organs. As Dana pushed warm saline and hooked him up to the cardiogram and oxygen mask, I finally was able to put my stethoscope to his bare skin.

Decreased breath sounds on the left, unilateral tension pneumothorax.

I prepped his rib cage for a chest tube just as Dana swabbed him and prepared to insert a central line in order to pump him with fluids and a few liters of blood. As I inserted the tube, she looked up at me, "O2's coming up… resp's still elevated."

After another listen to his breathing, I was pleased to hear the chest cavity decompressing, "Let's get the ultrasound in here, I want to make sure he doesn't have a pleural effusion brewing…"

She raced out of the room and I took the few moments of privacy to dilate Tim's pupils and to ask, "Tim, can you hear me?"

He moaned, coughed and went silent.

I withdrew a sterile needle from my pocket and raised his left hand before stabbing the palm. He flinched slightly, as he did when I stabbed his other palm. Good response to vocal and physical stimulus, far better than most stabbing victims I received.

"As I'm sure you are well aware of, I've put in a chest tube… and a central line. You've lost at least a unit since you've been here and the car looked like an abattoir… I need to know if Cassandra or Dick…"

His eyes opened briefly, and he winced, "Was alone… they don't… know."

I sedated him with three cc's of Lorazepam after promising him I would call Cassandra.

He weakly reached up and touched my arm, whispering, "Thank you," just as Dana appeared in the doorway with one of the portable ultrasound machines. As if it were any other patient, she went right to work with the sensor paddle, checking just above and below the sternum as well as between the seventh and eight pair of ribs on both sides.

She looked up at me, amazed, "Hardly any fluids in the chest cavity."

"He's lucky," I said quietly.

In near silence, we worked together to flush and tend to the stab wounds, of which required internal and external sutures. After inserting small drainage tubes in each, I had her close up so that I could check his vitals once more. His blood pressure had risen back within normal range and his pulse ox was hovering around ninety-four percent.

No major vessels or tissue damage, nothing that wouldn't heal on its own with time.

Lucky.

I allowed Dana to tend to suturing the throat laceration that just went through the dermis. She had been at the Clinic for almost twenty hours and her hands never wavered once.

"This is when that hellish two months as a plastic surgery resident comes in handy…" she joked as she began.

It wasn't until she was dressing the sutures before she asked, "Why does he come here?"

"He has nowhere else to go," I replied bluntly.

She stood back, removing her soiled gloves and gown, "I guess… I just figured he was invincible. It's hard to think there's a human underneath."

Bruce's eight-year-old face flashed before my eyes before I could respond, "I think there are times even they forget they are human."

"Has he… or they always come to you?"

Bruce's face came before my eyes once more, this time older. Bloodied. Bruised. I looked down at Timothy's masked face and answered, "Yes. We have a pact… He will do what he can to help this city while I will do what I can to help him save this city without violence."

"Guess it's still a work in progress," she shook here head, surveying his scarred torso.

I let a moment pass as I thought back to when Bruce had first brought me a beaten and near dead ten year old body, dressed in the guise of Robin, "I would appreciate it if---."

"No problem. My lips are sealed. Besides, the only person I would have told would have been Tim and he would have been right down here with flowers and a get-well teddy bear… I think he's more infatuated with Batman than I am," she smiled as she reached out to touch Tim's limp hand.

Jason…

She excused herself for a moment later, offering to get us both a coffee from the kitchen out front. Alone again, I stepped into the hall and locked the door before making my way into my office. Once seated behind the desk, I lifted the phone and dialed Barbara.

Barbara being paralyzed by the…

No answer.

Tim dying of the Plague.

I dialed the Townhouse and Cassandra answered on the fourth ring, "Tim?"

Bruce being shot by Pasqualle.

"No, it's Leslie, dear…" I explained his injuries as briefly as possible but she blurted out that she would be right over before I could finish. I then dialed Alfred's extension at Wayne Manor.

Thousands of sutures, countless bullets, burns, stabbings, broken bones…

"Yes?" Alfred answered.

"Alfred…" my voice failed me.

^V^

"Alfred?"

"Yes, Miss Mattie," he replied without looking up from the skillet.

We had decided to make brunch for everyone before going to my graduation at the elementary school. In order to feed myself, Nathan, Mom, Dad, Dick and Barbara, we decided to make roasted red potato hash, scrambled eggs with salmon, almond and apricot crescent rolls in addition to a huge bowl of fruit salad. Even though it was the first Saturday of summer vacation, I had planned on being up at seven in the morning helping Alfred prepare our feast.

My father had woken me at a little passed five in the morning to tell me about Tim.

At first I thought it was a dream, mostly because I was still half asleep when Dad started talking to me. When he asked me if I was okay, I had rolled over into my pillow and said, "No, I don't have those sneakers anymore."

That was when he sat me up, and said, "Mattie, please… I need you to listen to me."

And I did.

Even knowing Dad was Batman and that now Tim had the cowl, for some reason it still hadn't hit me that all of those scars on his body had been from someone hurting him. I guess I had thought that they only were hurt when they were younger, when they were first starting out. Which was why when Dad told me Tim had been stabbed several times while trying to catch the killer that escaped from Arkham yesterday, I was quick to ask, "He's not going to die, is he?"

"No… No," Dad and leaned over and kissed my head, "He's going to be fine, Leslie took care of him… but he won't be able to come to graduation---."

"I want to go see him," I had said, looking up at him. There was something about knowing someone was hurt and not being able to see them that had always bothered me. Even when Nathan was born early and Mom was in surgery, Dad had told me she was going to be okay but I didn't believe him until I was able to see her for myself.

"We will, later tonight… Dick and Barbara are going to be moving him here..."

"I'll help take care of him, Dad… I know how."

He forced a smile but I could tell how sad he was, "You can do whatever Alfred says."

I leaned against the counter and watched as Alfred poured the browned hash into a large glass serving bowl, "When are Dick and Barbara coming?"

After setting the skillet back on the stove top, he retrieved his pocket watch and said, "Momentarily… That is if Ms. Barbara was able to wake Master Dick."

I smirked, thinking how the only morning Dick wanted to wake up was Christmas. "Is Cassie coming?"

He paused before replying, "She said she would be present at the graduation but she was unfortunately not going to be able to attend brunch… Miss Mattie if you would check the crescent rolls."

After opening the bottom oven, I nodded to see they were just starting to brown. I turned the heart down slightly and commented, "Another minute or so." With the task complete I climbed up on a stool at the island counter and went back to combining the sliced fresh fruit into a large mixing bowl. While Alfred had been preparing the eggs and the hash, I had carefully sliced up oranges, kiwi, cantaloupe, strawberries and picked grapes from a bunch. In order to prevent sogginess, I had planned on mixing them just before brunch was served.

Just as I was about to wash my hands to set the table, Mom walked in with Nathan right behind her, "That smells wonderful, Alfred."

He had just started to wash the skillet when he replied, "Oh, far be it for me to take all the credit, Miss Mattie designed the menu."

Mom looked over the various plates of prepared food and leaned over to kiss me, "Bravo."

I was about to thank her when I heard the side door open. Nathan spun around dramatically and screamed when Dick appeared carrying two gift bags, one purple and one blue. After he handed the blue one to my brother, he approached me and said, "Happy Grad Day, kid," before offering me the purple bag.

Knowing it was an unspoken rule that there would be no more than three people in the kitchen at once, especially if Alfred was present, Mom suggested, "Nate, why don't we go in the den and see what Dick and Barbara brought you?"

Without a second of thought, Nathan raced into the hallway and yelled to no one in particular, "Pweasants!"

Mom and Dick followed less enthusiastically but as Barbara made her way into the kitchen, she hesitated, "Hey there…. I take it your Dad told you about Tim?" I nodded and traced the narrow straps of the gift bag but didn't say anything. She continued, "Well, he'll be sorry he's missing out on this… Leslie had him eating oatmeal and Gatorade for breakfast."

"You saw him?" I asked suddenly.

She nodded and pulled a strand of hair back behind her ear, "For a little bit, we dropped in before we came up here… He said he was sorry he wasn't going to see you get your award…. But he promised to make it up to you."

I joked, "He owes me a ride down the Monsoon Mountain." To celebrate the beginning of summer vacation, Cass, Tim and I were going to a water park in New Jersey the following weekend. With him injured, we had to reschedule for late July. Dad didn't know but Mom had already taken me to get a new bathing suit.

A bikini.

"Well, it looks like you've got everything under control, I best make sure Dick's not breaking Nathan's new toy…" Barbara smiled before heading into the hallway.

Alone with Alfred again, I peeked into the bag, moving a few sheets of tissue paper to reveal a pair of purple and black riding gloves as well as matching polo shirt, socks and a helmet cover. I set the bag on the floor beside my stool and looked up to see Alfred had washed all of the dishes we had dirtied that morning and was already wiping down the countertops.

"Alfred?"

"Yes, dear?"

"What was the worse thing that ever happened to Dad? Like an injury."

He hesitated before turning to face me, carefully folded the wash cloth, "Unfortunately there have been far too many grievous injuries to select only one… Nevertheless, I feel it's not quite proper to discuss the matter at the moment."

"Because of Tim?" I asked, suddenly feeling ashamed.

"Because of brunch," he offered a warm smile.

After setting the table and putting out the meal, Alfred went to retrieve everyone from the den while I went around pouring orange juice into the glasses. I also ran into the kitchen and retrieved another plate, glass, silverware and napkin for Alfred. Although he rarely ate with us, if I ever managed to get the utensils on the table he had a hard time declining.

Mom was the first to arrive, my brother in tow. I asked him what his present had been and he proudly showed me a large Superman action figure as he made it fly above his head. I bet Dad would love it. Just like when I was Superman for Halloween.

The others came in a moment later, Dick's eyes doubling at the feast set out on the table. I waited for him to take a seat before sitting in the chair next to him. With Barbara on his other side and Mom and Nathan across from us, it left Dad's place at the head of the table and the setting I had snuck in for Alfred on the other side of Mom. When Alfred finally entered the dining room and saw the extra place setting, he quickly shot me a look of surprise. Before he could say anything, I grinned, "Come on, Alfred, I need your opinion on how the salmon and eggs goes with the hash."

Dick laughed, "Nice move, girl."

I winked at my big brother before looking back to Alfred. When everyone else looked to him, he finally sighed and went about untying his green apron, "Very well, young miss… But next time, I shall set the table."

Once we were all seated, I looked to the empty chair where Dad should have been. I was about to ask if we should wait but Mom unfolded her napkin and set it on her lap, "Well, he can catch up… Nathan, let's get you some of this fruit salad."

Dad never made it to brunch.

Alfred had Dick help clear the table after everyone was finished so that I could go upstairs to change and get ready. Mom came upstairs as well, first to change Nathan into his dress clothes and then to pin up my hair. I had decided to let it grow out over the last year and the black curls were well passed my shoulders.

When Mom went in with Nathan, I walked towards my room. As a second thought, I kept going and peered in through the door that leads to Mom and Dad's room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on his left sock. Without looking up, he said, "Sorry, kitten, didn't have much of an appetite."

I walked over and sat on the bed next to him, "That's okay, Dick tried to eat what was left but I saved you a plate."

He leaned over and kissed my forehead, "My hero." He lifted his right leg up to pull on the other sock, the pants coming up to show a ragged pink scar that went down his shin and looped around his ankle. I thought back to the question I had asked Alfred earlier but decided against putting it to my father.

At least not that day.

After all, I had more important things to focus on.

How I was going to intentionally sit out of alphabetical order at the graduation in order to be between Terry and Katarina.

How Cass had promised to show me combat moves underwater next week.

How Mom and I were going to spend all of Sunday together in the city to celebrate my newfound adolescence.

And most importantly, how I was going to spend the first week of my summer vacation taking care of Batman.

^V^

As I laid face down on the bed, Selina sat on top of me, brutalizing my lower trapezium with her palms. She had been kneading my back since we had put Nathan to bed less than thirty minutes earlier, all the while having a one-way conversation with me as I moaned and sighed at her mercy. Finally, she demanded my full attention and jabbed at my kidney when I didn't respond to her saying, "Bruce?"

"… Sorry, I wasn't listening," I mumbled into the down comforter.

"I asked what you planned on doing with your son tomorrow seeing how Mattie and I are going to be gone all day."

I slowly turned my head to the left and inquired, "All day?"

She resumed her work, using the knuckles of her fist to work on my upper back, "Well, we're going out to breakfast before going to the spa…"

"Spa? For what?"

"I told you."

I paused before I opened my mouth to reply but she cut me off, "I know, you weren't listening… We're celebrating her new found pubescence with mani-pedis, facials, massages and then some shopping." I went to speak again and she spoke first once more, "Hey, if you get to brainwash her with vigilantism I can at least try to salvage what's left of her womanhood."

"I wasn't going to say anything about that… I wanted to know what you were shopping for."

I felt her lean forward, her hands settling on the bed on either side of my face as she leaned in to speak in my ear, "Since when do you care about what we go shopping for?"

As she sat back up and returned to her task, Mattie walked into the bedroom, "Alfred said to tell you that they're almost here with Tim." She approached the bed and asked, "Did you hurt your back, Dad?"

"No, just slept wrong." A lie considering I hadn't slept at all the night before. Instead my back was stiff from sitting at the computer in the Cave doing what I could to help look for Zsasz without putting my jugular on the line.

Unfortunately, that had been on Tim's shoulders.

Leslie had called at half passed four in the morning, just as I had finally resigned to going upstairs to feign sleep beside my wife. Alfred had met me halfway on the stairs leading from the Cave to the Manor, the look on his face barely hidden by lack of lighting. Even before he began to speak, I had about faced on the granite steps and quickly descended them in order to return to the computer.

"Dr. Thompkins said he was stable after twenty minutes, that there should be no permanent danger," Alfred had said as he followed at a slower pace.

"Why didn't Oracle contact me…" I had growled as I logged back into the system.

"She was unaware… Master Timothy faced Zsasz after she had signed off for the evening… And he was unable to contact her after the hostage situation came to light…"

"That's not like her…"

"If I may, sir, not everyone thrives off of exhaustion as well as you."

Ignoring him, my fingers had flown to the keyboards. After had I entered in the basic search criteria, the computer came back with a breaking news report that was streaming live from Gotham Cable News came up, it's female anchor reporting live from outside the school. "One hostage escaped the hold of the serial killer, using the rear fire escape after being found by Batman. The young girl's name is being with held at this time but police say that she was unharmed. Miraculously, only one hostage was injured, an aide responsible for supervising the girls in the dorm behind me. She is listed in stable condition this morning at Gotham General."

An anchor back at the station had then asked off screen, "Do we have any information in the actual apprehension of Zsasz?"

"We do, Mark. Although police entered the building less than thirty minutes after securing the perimeter, witnesses claim to have seen Batman leaving the building from the fire escape shortly before police forces moved in. Taking in the fact that Zsasz himself name out on a gurney, it's safe to say that the serial killer was given a taste of his own medicine. This is Lorri Beckler reporting live from---."

I had hit mute, letting the screen flicker before us.

Tim would have never allowed himself to be spotted had he not been severely wounded.

Alfred cleared his throat as he adjusted his robe, "Sir, might I suggest informing---."

I had suddenly grabbed the phone on the console and dialed Leslie's office. She had answered on the fourth ring, "Yes?"

"How is he?" I had asked, blaming my surroundings for the gravel in my voice.

Her voice had been exhausted, reporting his vitals and level of injuries to me. When I had said I would have Dick transport him here to recuperate, she had tried to argue that the last place he needed to be was in a cave. We compromised that he would be able to stay in the Manor on the second floor and under Alfred's watchful eyes.

Finally, I had asked how long he would be out of commission. She sighed before replying, "He should rest for at least four weeks… then another four weeks of rehab but knowing him… and you… he'll be on the streets before the end of the month."

When I went to retort she had already hung up on me.

"I told you, sir, exhaustion only seems to suit you."

"Shut up, Alfred."

I could hear the smile in his voice as he had replied, "Very well, sir."

Selina pinched the skin on the nape of my neck, bringing me back to full attention.

Without missing a beat, I suggested, "Mattie why don't you make sure the lights are on in the guest room."

She nodded and eagerly ran out of the room. I knew how excited she was to see Tim, even in an infirm form, but more so I knew how eager she was to help take care of him. Even at a young age she had been interested in trying to heal others, even if it was with a simple kiss. I suddenly recalled when I had fallen victim to the Scarecrow's nightmare serum when she was six years old. Although I could barely keep my eyes open, I had humored her medical treatments.

Alone again, Selina moved off of me and walked over to the dresser. As she removed her earrings, she said, "Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything," I answered without moving.

"Try to… tell him that there's nothing wrong with taking a break… to take it easy."

Finally, I pushed myself up with my arms before rising off of the bed myself, "I'll try, but I make no guarantees."

She was smiling when she turned to face me, "I know, after all, you taught him well."

We walked downstairs together after checking on Nathan, who was fast asleep on his bed, his stuffed German shepherd caught in a chokehold. Even since he was a toddler he had always gripped onto his stuffed animals and blankets for dear life while he slept. One reason why I was hesitant of getting him a dog.

Upon arriving in the atrium, I was surprised to see that Dick had been able to bring Tim in on his own. Instead of a gurney, Tim sat upright in a wheelchair holding onto his own IV bags. His arm was in a sling and a long sleeved shirt no doubt concealed the bandages that wrapped his torso and wounds. He noticed Mattie looking at his sling and joked, "Don't worry, you should see the other guy." When he spotted me, he smirked, "Did I miss dinner?"

Mattie stepped forward and said, "I saved you some. Mushroom stuffed chicken. We saved some for everyone," she looked over at Leslie and then Dick. "Where's Cass?"

"Oh, she stayed in the city, to get a head start."

Mattie winked at her big brother, "Gotcha."

It was then that my eyes followed my daughter's, although I never did look over to Dick. Leslie seemed drained from her efforts over the last day, and no doubt the days that preceded. She met my gaze and blinked slowly before saying, "I'd love to stay and eat but…"

Alfred interrupted, "Nonsense, madam. I must insist… it is one of the finest Pennyworth-Wayne concoctions to date."

Mattie nodded enthusiastically and looked back to Leslie, "Please."

I stepped forward, "I'll help Dick get Tim settled in…"

"And Miss Mattie can bring him up a plate once it has been warmed."

Leslie gave in with a slight shrug, "All right… only for a few bites though."

"Trust me," Mattie stepped forward and latched her hand on to Leslie's, "A few bites won't be enough. I had three plates at dinner…"

Selina followed them alongside Alfred, leaving the three of us to navigate to the second floor. We rode up together in the elevator and I let Dick push the wheelchair down the corridor so that I could go ahead to open the door. Mattie and Alfred had prepared the room after dinner, setting up the bed with fresh linens in addition to placing an IV stand next to the bed and the portable vital monitor from the Cave on the nightstand.

The lights were already on and the covers turned down with a small index card on the pillow. I picked it up just as Tim and Dick passed through the door. After reading it myself, I handed it to Tim and he smirked before reading aloud, "Welcome to the Wayne Hospital. Please feel free to contact your care provider with anything you need. Especially a hug. Or a snack. Or both."

"Girl's getting too clever, Bruce," Dick commented as he positioned the wheelchair next to the bed. He then took the IV bag from Tim and hung it on the stand, "Need help, little bro?"

"First of all, I am no longer littler than you… secondly… yes please."

Maybe I didn't need to lecture Tim about acknowledging his limitations. I already had, when he was a teenager, punishing himself relentlessly in order to obtain perfection, shortly after Selina and I had been in a car accident just before our wedding.

He had always been a bright boy.

And now a brilliant man.

Dick excused himself, all too eager to have a second dinner. I chose to stay behind, standing beside the bed uncomfortably. Tim began hooking up the small sensor pads to his chest, smiling when the monitor began reading his vitals, "I live."

I nodded, forcing a smirk that barely lasted a heartbeat.

When I didn't offer anything verbally, he said, "I forgot how fast he was… with a blade… Barely felt it until it was too late."

I tried not to count the scars on my body that had been delivered by Zsasz as I questioned, "The body armor didn't hold?"

Tim looked at me, slightly caught off guard at the change of subject. He then settled back against the mountain of pillows behind him, "He was lucky, found a joint on my side. And I had the collar on but it doesn't really cover my traps…" he motioned the top of his shoulder with his good arm. "Figure with some down time I can play with some designs."

I nodded, "Good idea."

Once more I found myself thinking about a younger Tim, atop the roof of an icy Wayne Manor helping hang Christmas lights while discussing a recent fiasco with Firefly.

… _Was there anything else… that seemed ineffective?_

… _Aside from the fact that sweating and Kevlar don't mix?_

Mattie knocked on the open door before declaring, "Room service!"

"I could get used to this…" Tim joked as he watched Mattie push a small serving cart towards him. She carefully put a small tray over his lap before uncovering a steaming plate of chicken and rice. Tim smirked, "So do I get a little bell to ring when I need you?"

"I couldn't find a bell… but I found this," Mattie smiled as she opened the drawer of the nightstand revealing a kazoo. "It will help you build up your air power, I use them in my resp therapy every month." Tim went to reach for it but Mattie said, "Let me."

Once he had it in his possession, he blew it softly. Mattie said, "Well?"

"I think I need to take you up on that offer for a hug, Doc."

She carefully hugged him, being sure not to bother his injured side. She then turned to look up at me, "All right, Dad, visiting hours are over. My patient needs to rest."

Tim smirked, "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

I nodded before being physically ushered out of the room by my dinner cart-wielding daughter.

Later that evening, after Dick and Leslie had departed for Gotham and after Tim and Mattie were settled in for the night, I found Selina pretending to sleep in the bedroom. After changing and getting under the covers, I sighed loudly.

When Selina didn't respond, I sighed louder and cleared my throat.

"I have a long day of pampering ahead of me, it better be important," she finally growled.

I didn't respond until she rolled over to face me, "Is there anyway we can keep her from growing up?"

"Sorry, my love, it's too late," she patted my face before starting to roll away.

I put my hand on her side gently and she stilled, "Tim's taking some time… I didn't have to say anything."

"Good… at least he still has some common sense left."

"And I didn't?"

Her smile glowed in the dark, "You were a crime fighter… that married a criminal."

I grunted.

She purred.

^V^


	28. What Lies Ahead: XXVIII

Title: What Lies Ahead: XXVIII

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: All's well that ends well.

Author's Note:

^V^

"I don't want to go to school."

I kissed his cheek before asking, "Oh, why not?"

"… My tummy hurts."

My fingers found his forehead was cool to the touch, "It does?"

"I don't feel good," he mumbled in return.

"Awfully convenient of you to have a tummy ache the morning of a field trip."

He took a moment to form his answer, "Don't feel good. Tummy hurts."

I moved to lie on top of him before whispering in his ear, "If you're not out of this bed by the count of five, Bruce, I'll make sure your tummy really hurts."

His eyes flashed open and he sighed, "It's not fair, if Mattie or Nathan were sick, you wouldn't make them go to school."

After kissing his cheek again I commented, "That's because they would actually be sick. Unlike you…" When he pulled the covers up over his face, I sat up, straddling his hips, "Come on, Bruce, I'll even sit next to you on the bus."

"Still not going," came his muffled reply.

"I'll have Alfred put two Snack Packs in your lunch."

He hesitated before shaking his head no.

"I'll let you shower with me."

Bruce slowly pulled the covers down, revealing only his icy blue eyes. As his left brow rose slightly he finally said, "Oh… all right. But I'm not going to have any fun."

"In the shower or at the zoo?" I laughed while getting off of him.

"Both," he grumbled before rising himself.

Being the first Friday in October, the kindergarten class of Bristol Elementary, including the newly enrolled Jonathan Thomas Wayne, were scheduled to spend the entire day at the Gotham Zoo. Just as when Mattie had gone, Bruce was the only male chaperone of the group, this time less worried about the other children's behavior and more so about his son's.

Although Nathan was a very loving child, he was also very active and often on this side of being in trouble. Whether it be fighting over who sat where when we watched a movie together in the entertainment den or getting caught stealing toys from Mattie's room, he always seemed to be in some sort of mischief. Bruce had once said that Mattie had taken his noble qualities of a crime fighter. Before he had been able to say that our son had taken my criminal tendencies, I had struck him hard enough in the solar plexus that he doubled over gasping for air.

"What were you saying, my love?"

"Nothing, dear," he had managed in a gasp.

With the zoo trip, Bruce was terrified of a repeat experience as when he had chaperoned Mattie's class, mostly because he felt Nathan would be the ringleader. With no misbehavior reports from his teacher or even a mention of ill temper at the school's open house the week before, I had tried to convince Bruce that Nathan was going to be fine and as long as he remembered to bring painkillers, he would be fine too.

On the very same day, Mattie's biology class was also attending the zoo to tour the new animal hospital and rehabilitation center as well as the nutrition and reproduction labs. In light of my involvement with the Preserve, Mattie's teacher, Mr. Patrick Haines, had asked me to chaperone. I had expected Bruce to be upset because he wasn't going to be in the more scholarly group.

Instead, he was upset because I was working with older and more responsible kids, or as he said, "They have to be well-behaved by now... or else they would be locked up in Juvie."

I walked into the bathroom and turned the shower on to warm it up. As Bruce slowly rose from the bed and shuffled by me, I said, "I'm going to go make sure they're up." He nodded and then opened his mouth to speak. I leaned in and kissed him, "Whatever it is, don't say it."

I pulled my robe on over my silk nightgown before entering the hall. Just as I reached Mattie's door, it opened. I stepped back as Mattie smiled, "When are we leaving?" She had dressed for the chilly day with dark jeans, a white dress shirt under a form fitting green argyle sweater. As tom-boyish as she seemed at times, whenever she decided to make use of her wardrobe, she made for one good-looking kid.

"Not until seven… Why don't you make sure the lunches are in the cooler and that the bags are by the door, Dad will carry them out when we leave… Oh, and since Alfred has today off we'll just stop at the bakery for something quick for breakfast."

"Can I get coffee?" she asked, the rate of her words suggesting the last thing she needed was caffeine.

"We'll see," I smirked. Whenever I took her to the city or to the Preserve, or generally whenever it was just the two of us, I always treated her with a small coffee. She had grown quite fond of caramel lattes and mocha macchiatos.

While she spun around and jogged to the stairs, I stopped by Nathan's door and knocked before entering. I smiled to see he was indeed up and moving, running around his room in a tee-shirt and a pair of Winnie the Pooh underwear. When he spotted me, he charged and roared. As I lifted him in the air, I bared my teeth, "What a mighty tiger… You excited?"

He nodded his head quick enough to tussle his hair.

I carried him to his bed and allowed him stand on it before letting go, "All right, let's get you dressed, mister, then you can take your back pack down to the door." Where Mattie had been slightly hesitant going into middle school, Nathan had been all to eager to start Kindergarten. He was fearless as he was ferocious.

Like most tigers...

Once he was sporting jeans, a dark blue turtleneck under a light and dark blue sweater, I helped him tie his sneakers before watching him brush his teeth and brush his hair. Even though he had been in my life for five healthy years, I still couldn't help but think back on those first few weeks, knowing him only through the NICU glass…

When he was skipping down the hall towards the stairs, I finally made it back to the master bedroom, surprised to see Bruce had already showered and was in the process of shaving. As I leaned against the counter less than a foot away from him, I asked, "You couldn't wait five minutes?"

"No sense in delaying the inevitable."

Just before he was about to put the blade to his throat, I reached out and pulled the towel from around his waist. When he didn't waver, I threw the towel at him and headed towards the shower, disrobing as I growled, "Better be hot water left…."

I took more than twice the time Bruce had used to get ready. When I emerged from the master bedroom, I checked the children's bedrooms to see they were empty before making my way to the stairs. Following voices to the kitchen, I was surprised to see Mattie and Nathan sitting at the island counter, both with glasses of milk and plates with scrambled eggs, raisin toast and sliced peaches.

"Good morning, Ms. Selina," he greeted me with a cup of coffee.

I took it from him slowly and commented; "I thought you were taking the day for yourself…"

"Ah but the day doesn't begin until after a good breakfast."

"He's right, Mom," Mattie said while Bruce passed through the service entrance and entered the kitchen.

"Alfred's always right…" he paused before asking, "All right, Mattie you have your inhaler?" She rolled her eyes and nodded before taking a bite of her toast. He then looked to me, "And you have a back up---."

"We went through this last night… We're all set, aren't we?" I leaned forward and kissed Nathan's head while he stabbed eggs enthusiastically. I feared the day Dick, Tim and Cassandra passed on their gluttonous ways to my innocent child…

With the car packed for the day and the kids dressed and ready, Bruce found himself without anything to obsess over. So while Mattie and Nathan finished their breakfast in the kitchen, I joined him in the nook to share a cup of coffee and our own plate of eggs, toast and fruit. While he pretended to scan the Business section, I took the Local news and smiled at a familiar face on the front cover.

I read the headline out loud, "Police bust pharmacy drug theft ring with a little help from a friend…"

Bruce looked up just as I flipped the page towards him, showing the Commissioner and DA standing side by side with Dick, Tim and Will. They were right outside the main entrance to their offices, standing just the left of the DJG Security sign.

Mattie hopped off of her stool and walked over to look as well, "Oh, I thought it was…" she nodded and held her index fingers up to either side of her head.

I skimmed the article and read a small paragraph aloud, "Retired Bludhaven Police Detective Richard Grayson joined forces with the late retired Police Commissioner James Gordon seven years ago to utilize their experience in the field to help make Gotham safer on an individual basis. Starting with less than a handful of clients, DJG Security is now the leading residential and commercial security consultancy firm in Gotham City, with a client waiting list six months long. Grayson stated, 'We never imagined it would get this big… Really, we started out just so we would have something to do aside from sitting at home criticizing CSI reruns.' ."

Mattie asked, "Can we bring the paper, I want to show my friends Dick's in it."

"Sure, I'll let Dad read it on the bus ride over then you can have it."

Bruce grumbled something that sounded like "Can't read on the bus, they'll know my guard is down."

^V^

"Tie or no tie?" Dick called from the walk-in closet.

"No tie… work casual," I replied as I ran a comb through my hair one last time.

He emerged, his khaki pants still draped over his arm and blue striped dress shirt still hanging from his finger. Ten minutes earlier, he had entered the closet wearing an undershirt and boxers. All that had been added were a pair of brown socks and a belt around his neck.

"Work casual for me is a pair of flip flops and a sombrero."

I smiled at him, knowing full well he wasn't kidding, "No tie, top button undone… and blue socks, not brown, dear."

Since we had officially decided to adopt a child in place of using a surrogate, Dick and I had returned to our normal, happy selves. Partly because there wasn't anything looming between us, getting in the way of the rest of our lives and that we were finally going to start our own family. But mostly because we were reveling in the fact that we were being sneaky and keeping it from everyone else.

At least until everything was official.

Dick wanted to just randomly go to dinner at Wayne Manor some night with a baby in his arms just to see the look on Bruce's face. As amusing as that would have been, it would be far less entertaining to see Selina or whoever have to give Bruce artificial respiration until the ambulance arrived. Knowing how lengthy the adoption process was, I told him that the day we found out we were going to be parents would be the day we told everyone.

"You are absolutely no fun," he had replied.

In our Family, it was very easy to keep certain secrets from each other as long as it didn't deal directly with a case or anything crime related for that matter. Personal lives were far easier to keep under wraps than masked lives. Some things, like Bruce proposing to Selina on Christmas or Tim and Cass spending their first night together, had taken several days to make the rounds.

It had taken sixteen hours for all of us to find out Bruce had been stepping down.

Having completed the application process for adopting a child as well as the six-week education course, Dick and I had been impatiently waiting for our first home visit and interview. Even though there were over two hundred children available for adoption, there were nearly two times that many couples looking to adopt. Placing the right child in the right home was a long and tedious effort performed by those who had dedicated their lives to bringing families together.

Finally, as October arrived so did our home visit letter. We were scheduled to meet with Ann Hutchins at ten in the morning on the first Friday of October. In order to make sure he was well rested, I had forced Dick to limit his patrolling to Gotham until midnight. This also included me signing off around the same time, which Dick had to threaten to unplug the computers for me to do so.

Having spent the week making the apartment baby proof and as family friendly as possible, I felt we were more than ready to make our best first impression. Frank had even gone to the groomer, which entailed a seventy-five dollar bath that made the little snorting bulldog a shiny little snorting bulldog.

The interview itself was to revolve around why we wanted to adopt, what type of child we were looking for and how having said child would affect our current and future lifestyles. When we had skimmed the brochure that came with our letter, Dick had joked, "So, I guess that means no more nudie late night snacks, hunh?"

Leaving Dick to fend for himself in the closet, I went to set the coffee maker and to make sure nothing had dirtied itself since I had last checked thirty minutes earlier.

Dad had always called me his little cleaning lady.

As much as I wanted to adopt to become a parent with the man I loved, I knew a part of me wanted to do it for Dad. He had always wanted the best for me, whether it was the best gymnast, the best librarian or the best cyber-sleuth. And I knew it was one of his hopes that someday I would be the best mother as well.

After touring the apartment, I returned to the kitchen and watched the coffee drip into the pot. I alternated looking at my watch and the coffee machine until Dick appeared at the kitchen door, "Work casual enough?"

"J. Crew-licious," I grinned as he walked over and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

As he took a seat at the small kitchen table, he said, "Wonder if the kids have fed Bruce to the petting zoo animals yet."

I couldn't help but smile, knowing Bruce was suffering through yet another kindergarten zoo trip. I still remembered Selina delivering every agonizing detail about his first time with Mattie. Hopefully he had learned from his errors and brought blow darts with him.

"Now now, we can't make light of his misery… someday it will be our misery."

Dick shook his head, "No, see I can't wait for stuff like that… I'll be the one getting yelled at by the other chaperones to stop winding the kids up."

"Undoubtedly," I replied as I checked my watch again. Six minutes to go…

A knock at the door caused my heart to skip a beat. Dick rose to his feet and quickly walked down the hall. I heard him swear before he opened the door, "Hey, Tim…"

I grit my teeth together and listened as Tim made his way into the atrium, "Sorry, I didn't know you were coming in, I would have waited to see you at the office."

"Actually, I'm not, Babs and I are going to go out for the day… actually we're leaving pretty soon."

Their footsteps echoed down the hall and I glanced at my watch again. Five minutes…

"Hey, Barbara," Tim greeted me as he passed into the kitchen after Dick, "This will only take a second, I promise… But, uh, well you know that home visit we have scheduled this afternoon, check camera wiring at that residence on Burton."

Dick nodded, feigning patience despite the fact that his heart was most likely racing nearly as fast as mine, "Uh, yeah, something about the motion sensors aren't triggering the cameras to swing over…"

Tim sighed before asking, "Well, it's Tim Bryce's place and with Will out sick, I was wondering if I rescheduled it for tomorrow morning if you could do it?"

"Oh, come on, Timmy," Dick smirked, "The DA won't bite. Hard."

"I know… it's not him I'm worried about. His wife treated me at Leslie's back with Zsasz… She's going to be there today and… Bryce didn't marry her for just her looks, she's not a fool…"

Four minutes…

"What, you guys have a date or something?" Tim asked suddenly.

"What?" I replied, "Well, sort of. We should be going, Dick, with traffic and everything."

Dick nodded, "Right… Well, try not to wear a cape and cowl and talk like a human instead of a garbage disposal."

Tim sighed, "I know I'm being paranoid but…"

Dick put a hand on Tim's shoulder and began to usher him back into the hall, "Comes with the territory, just play up the IT geekanerd thing, make a Star Wars joke or two and she'll never be the wiser."

"I suppose you're right…"

Three minutes…

I heard them walk down the hall back towards the door as Dick joked, "Besides, if she puts two and two together, just use the Neurilizer."

Tim paused before relying, "That's Men In Black. Not Batman."

"Well, you should invent one, Mr. Smarty Pants because it would be extremely handy and would fit in my belt right next to my Power Bar."

After the door closed, I heard Dick call out, "Well that was close…"

I smiled and then glanced at my watch once more. Two minutes…

The next time there was a nock at the door, Dick answered far more enthusiastically, "Hi, you must be Ms. Hutchins, please come in."

Alfred would be so proud…

I made my way into the hallway and approached them, just as Dick took her coat. She was in her mid-forties, no taller than Cassandra, with a slender frame sporting a long black skirt and a spotless white top. She smiled and said, "Oh, please call me Ann…"

"And please, call me Dick. And this is my wife, Barbara."

After she shook Dick's hand, she took mine gently, "Pleased to meet you."

"Oh, the pleasure is all ours, we're so glad to have finally made it this far in the program."

I lead the way to the living room, and offered her coffee. When she declined, I asked Dick and he also said no. After the interview, I would make sure every last drop was gone.

Ann took one of the leather chairs and Dick and I took the couch opposite of her. She had brought a small briefcase with her and set it gently on the floor, leaning it against her chair, "I suppose congratulations are in order… it was funny, I was having breakfast with my husband this morning, reviewing your file and he set a section of the newspaper down on the table and you were on the front cover."

Dick nodded and smiled sheepishly, "Yeah, I can't believe they even wrote an article about it… we've actually worked with the police for some time, any incriminating security tape footage gets processed and turned over as evidence."

Ann nodded, "It's very interesting work, I imagine."

"It's nice, especially after working as a detective and a cop… with them it's hard to see people as people, they end up being just witnesses, suspects and victims… but with the consultancy, I mean, we get Christmas cards, fruit baskets, crayon drawings from kids… It's really wonderful."

"And Barbara, your file said you work from home?"

I nodded, "Mostly online networking, helping set up websites, data banks, communications networks."

"I'm just starting to figure out my own e-mail account… I've been with Social Services for twenty-two years… I still have my old typewriter in storage." She paused briefly and then asked, "Well, I suppose we might as well get into it… The most important question I have for you today is why do you want adopt a child."

Dick looked to me, and I nodded. He then cleared his throat, "I was orphaned at the age of ten after witnessing my parents murders… I know the older a kid is the harder it is to place them… especially one with some serious emotional issues. Luckily a man who had also been orphaned at a young age as a result of violence took me in as a ward… Initially, he thought because we had a similar experience, he would be able to teach me to cope with the pain, and use it for good.

"He wasn't the ideal father figure and he probably had no right being in charge of me. But… now, as I look back, I couldn't imagine having been raised by anyone else. He's as much of a father to me as my biological father had been. I joke with him now because he has two children of his own and where he may have erred with me, he's done everything in his power to right those faults in order to better their lives…"

He sighed before continuing, "I want to have that with a child. I want to be that father figure, to give them a life they never dreamed of having."

There were tears in Ann's eyes.

And mine.

^V^

Just as we made our way to the food pavilion a little after noon, I saw that members of the kindergarten class had beaten us but not by much. Most were in line still to buy lunch from the McDonald's and some had even skipped lunch and had gone straight to dessert at the Make Your Own Sundae bar. I wouldn't find my father or brother in either line as Dad had actually remembered to bring the lunches for this zoo trip.

Even though the morning had been a bit chilly, it ended up being a pretty nice day. I had almost regretted wearing a sweater and a long sleeved shirt, but it paid off since we spent most of the trip in the climate controlled labs and buildings.

With twenty-seven kids in my class and six chaperones, we had been broken up into three groups of nine with two chaperons each. Even though I had lucked out having Mom as one of my chaperones, unfortunately Piper and Katarina were in another group so my only friends were Angie and Terry. Instead of having to find a partner, we made groups of three, not only to keep an eye out for one another but to work together on our question packet.

Once we had arrived at the zoo and split into our three groups, we began the rotation schedule between visiting the rehabilitation center, the nutrition lab and the reproduction lab. At each building, we received a tour, introductions to any animals present and then some hands-on activities before filling out a certain part of the packet. Our first stop had been the nutrition lab and we all helped prepare the lunches for the animals. Terry, Angie and I cut up vegetables and bananas for the swans and ducks.

From there we had headed to the rehab building where they treated any of their own sick animals in addition to offering surgical and hospitalization to other zoos that didn't have similar facilities available. Dr. Snyder, who helped out at the Preserve, was shocked to see Mom and I walk in with the group.

"Selina, well, this is a surprise… How's that gum infection clearing up on that bobcat?"

I smiled, thinking how Patrick, who I had named when I was a little kid, was nearly back to full health. While Mom and Dr. Snyder chatted, I went on the tour with the rest of the group and then we were able to watch some of the veterinarians and assistants treat some of the patients. My favorite had been the sea lion, which was getting over a skin irritation on his flipper.

The last had been the reproduction lab, where we were able to look at a number of animals with their new babies. Many of them had indoor pens with small huts and dens with a small viewing window. I counted fourteen new babies, including a porcupine, two wombats, a peacock, an owl, a male zebra, three goats, an emu, two lemurs and two tapirs.

Since the goats and tapirs had been handled and didn't pose too much of a threat, we were able to go in the pen three at a time to pet them and their mothers. The little silver male goat licked my chin when I crouched to pet him and when I looked over to my mother she shook her head as she smiled, "Don't even think about it."

"Oh, come on… look how cute he is! He could weed the garden for Alfred."

"Oh, I'm sure he would love that."

After washing up and finishing our packets it was time for lunch. Since our groups had merged, we were quick to join Piper and Katarina before racing down the brick paved pathway towards the pavilion. When I asked them what lunch they prepared, Piper shuddered, "The sea lion, we had to cut up fish, it was so gross."

"We did the ducks, so it was like making a salad minus the croutons," Angie said.

With the tables coming into view, I asked, "Where do we want to sit?"

"Ugh not near the chaperones, I am so tired about hearing about what their car gets for gas mileage," Katarina rolled her eyes.

There was one table to the far right that was unclaimed and several tables away from anyone old enough to be an adult. We were just about to head over when I spotted my dad just taking a table on the far left with Nathan. "I have to get my lunch from my dad, I'll be right over."

"I'll come with you," Piper said.

Katarina nodded, "Me, too."

Angie said, "Well, I have my lunch in my backpack, I'll go save it."

Terry sighed before saying, "I think I'm going to go sit with Adam and Mike…"

I looked over my shoulder at him, "Are you sure?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I smell girl talk cooking," he winked at me before walking off.

As a trio, we walked over to the table just as Dad began opening the small cooler he had brought along. Before I could announce myself, Katarina skipped forward, "Hi, Mr. Wayne… I love your jacket."

He turned around and smiled to see us, "Hello, ladies… and thank you. Have you been having fun?"

Katarina looked to Piper and they both nodded in unison.

Dad opened the cooler and retrieved my purple thermal lunch bag, "Here, Mattie… And there's water and pineapple juice in here to drink."

I stepped forward and grabbed a pineapple juice bottle, "Thanks, Dad… I'm going to go over there and sit, is that okay?"

He nodded as he followed the direction my finger pointed, "Sure thing. If you want anything else, Alfred packed extras."

"Okay… let's go, 'ladies'." When we were out of earshot, I hit Piper in the arm, "You guys are so annoying."

My two best friends laughed before Piper explained, "Oh, come one, Mattie, it's not our fault your dad doesn't look like a dad."

Katarina added, "Seriously, he's way hotter than George Clooney."

"Shut up," I moaned. Even though they had grown up knowing my dad, for some reason in the last year they had decided he was good looking and they always commented on something whenever they talked to him. It was embarrassing even though Dad didn't seem to notice.

"No, it's true, look at all of our parents and then look at your parents," Katarina paused and turned around to see Mom joining Dad, kissing him the cheek before leaning in to tickle Nathan's neck. "Your Mom looks like she should be a model or something."

"Or maybe she looks like she should be my mom," I replied before taking a seat. "Can we please talk about something else?"

Piper retrieved her lunch from her backpack and said, "Fine, how about your home economics partner."

I smirked knowing that they were jealous I had been teamed up with the new boy in our class, Marc. I had to admit, he was pretty cute with his bright green eyes, short curly brown hair and a smile that seemed too white to be real, but what I liked about him was his sense of humor. When I had first met him in homeroom the first day of middle school, he seemed pretty shy but when I asked him to borrow a piece of paper to write a note, he had flashed me a smile before whispering back, "Only if you write a note to me. That way I get my piece of paper back…"

Since then we had hung out a few times, mostly at school, but I knew he wasn't going to be some stuck up kid like some of my fellow classmates. He played soccer on the junior varsity team of the high school even though he was only in seventh grade, which was pretty cool. I didn't know much about him aside from the fact that he was funny, he used to live in Connecticut and he could dribble a ball on his head thrifty-six times in a row.

"What about him?" I replied coolly as I retrieved my chicken salad sandwich from my lunch bag.

"What about him? What's not about him? Mattie you should totally get him before someone else does," Piper said dramatically before biting into her turkey sandwich.

"Um, I don't need a boyfriend right now, thanks."

Katarina grinned, "That's right, you have, Terry."

"For the millionth time, Terry is not my boyfriend," I growled. I hated how they teased me about being friends with him. They were friends with him too and I didn't accuse them of dating him just because they sat next to each other in study hall.

They must have sensed the anger in my voice because they went silent. After a moment, I looked up to see they were staring right behind me. After exhaling slowly, I asked, "What?"

Smile broke out on their faces and I was just about to turn to look when I heard Marc approach, "Hey, Mattie… Piper, Angie … Kat."

"Hi, Marc," they practically swooned in chorus.

He sat on the bench beside me and said, "Sweet, you put walnuts in your chicken salad, my mom does that."

I asked, "Does she put grapes?"

He nodded, "Only if my little sister's not having any, she thinks they're eyeballs."

I bit my lip as Piper asked, "So, Marc… what are you doing this weekend?"

He glanced over to me again and said, "Hopefully Mattie's coming over so we can finish our food pyramid presentation."

I nodded calmly as the other girls chattered quietly, "Sure, that's fine… I have a riding lesson until ten but my dad can drop me off after I change."

"So… like eleven?" he asked as he leaned against my arm and slowly reached over to grab the other half of my sandwich.

My hand darted forward and I snatched it up before he could, "Eleven's good."

He pretended to be sad for a moment before getting up from the bench, "See you then…" When I turned back to the table he spun around quickly and made a grab for my sandwich again. Instinct took over and I jabbed him with my elbow, which unfortunately caused him to stumble and land on the ground, his arm shooting out to grab the bench.

Instead he grabbed the front of my sweater.

He tried to cover his embarrassment with one of his big smiles, "Sorry, Mattie, I didn't mean to…"

"No, my fault… here, if you really want it, you can have it."

After realizing I wasn't upset or embarrassed, he bowed to take the sandwich and then as he rose he leaned in and whispered into my ear, "Thanks," before kissing my cheek.

As he walked away without another word, I went back to my lunch despite the fact that my friends were on the verge of giggling to death.

Piper moved down the bench to lean against my arm, "So, you don't like Marc like that?"

"I don't," I replied sternly.

Katarina asked, "Then why are you blushing?"

^V^

Armed with my toolkit, half-smile and mused hair, I pressed the doorbell and listened as it chimed softly. The spacious front deck of the two-story house was already decorated for the fall with a wicker basket of squashes to the left of the door in addition to corn stalk leaning against the exterior wall to the right. As I heard footsteps approaching from the other side, I was in sheer awe that the District Attorney had managed to find corn stalks…

After the click of the deadbolt retreating sounded, the door was opened to reveal a chocolate scrub sporting Dr. Dana Bryce, her short caramel hair just a shade lighter than that of her husband's.

The last time I had seen her I had been bleeding on a gurney, barely able to breath.

She flashed a smile as I said, "Hi, Dr. Bryce, I'm Tim Drake with DJG…"

"Oh, please, come in, come in… Tim's on the phone but he said he'd be done in a second…"

I followed her into a spacious atrium that stood between two large open rooms on either side. To the left was a formal dining room complete with lavish furniture, a plush carpet and several large mounted black and white photographs of various city sights. To the right appeared to be a sitting room, featuring a number of plush leather chairs and a small fireplace. As I stepped further into the atrium, I smiled to see a poker table in the sitting room.

"Tim's a Hold'em fiend. He has most of the elected officials in here Saturday nights elbow deep in chips."

I admitted, "We all have guilty pleasures, I suppose."

As I turned to face her, she offered, "Please, let me take your coat, they have the security computer unit in the upstairs office… it can get pretty warm up there."

I thanked her and removed my waist length wool coat. Although it had ended up being almost warm out I had still opted to wear it, not knowing how long the job was going to take. Nice autumn days far too often turned to chilly autumn evenings.

"So…" she began, "Can I get you anything?"

I shook my head and declined politely, "Actually, can you show me to the cameras that are malfunctioning?"

She nodded and about faced before leading me towards the back of the house. We passed the remainder of the ground floor rooms, a bathroom, an entertainment den and a small study. After passing through a broad open arch, we walked through the black and white tiled kitchen before exiting the house onto a deck furnished with a wooden table setting and a large stainless steel grill.

She pointed out the camera above the door and to the two on either end of the house, "The motion sensor is supposed to make them direct to the sensor tripped, right?"

"Right, as a safety precaution…" I carefully climbed up the railing of the deck to stand under the far right camera, looking for any sign of damage to the neck. It was as I was getting down that I faked imbalance and awkwardness. When Dana stepped forward, I stood upright, "Sorry, I promise not to fall on my head."

"I'll have Tim get the ladder if you want."

I shook my head, "Actually, I doubt it's mechanical as much as it is electrical. There are no other problems, just these cameras?"

She nodded, "At least that I know of."

"We can run a diagnostics program on the security system, that should flag anything else …" the door opened from behind us and when we turned Bryce passed through.

"The deputy mayor can kiss my … Oh, hey there, stranger, long time no see," he smiled before reaching out with his hand. As I shook it, I couldn't help but wonder what he wanted the deputy mayor to kiss.

"I still can't believe that article was on the front page of the local news… Clearly it should have been about the pumpkin carving contest at the library next week," Dana joked.

Bryce set his hand no my shoulder, "Laugh all you want, these guys are lifesavers. Hell, the commissioner was talking about an official alliance but I told her it would never fly. Why muck up a good thing with police involvement?" he laughed.

"Exactly, and at any rate it's bad enough I've got to deal with Dick and Will… they have Medals of Valor for paperweights, I have Han Solo in carbonite."

Bryce laughed again and turned to his wife, "Well, you heading to work?"

She nodded and said, "But of course, a doctor's work is never done in the ghetto… It was nice seeing you."

"You, too."

As she disappeared into the house, Tim's face dimmed slightly, "God, I hate having her work there… she loves it but one of these days… it's going to be a wrong turn down an alley…"

Feeling very out of place, I simply offered, "She seems like a tough woman. I wouldn't cross her path."

He smirked before saying, "Nor would I…" He waited a beat before leading me back into the kitchen, shutting the door behind me. After hearing the front door open and shut, Bryce paused before saying, "Those cameras work fine, I unplugged the wire on the unit upstairs to have a cover for Dana."

Feeling my heart rate instantly triple, I asked, "Okay… is there anything else wrong?"

"Batman."

"… Excuse me?"

After a slow nod, he said, "Batman has broken into my house at least four times that I know of… not that I'm complaining. Three times he left evidence for me or a name that I needed to look into…"

"And the fourth time?"

Bryce smirked again, "I was working late in the office upstairs… he just appeared suddenly."

Although outwardly, my expression was intrigued, on the inside, I was breathing a sigh of relief. I had actually broken in more than a dozen times but the time I had physically confronted him had been the last. I had wanted to speak with him about a case he was pursuing that involved a small gang that had been using lively riots to get their name out. As a result, they had "accidentally" killed a seventy-one year old shop owner and in a panic had then killed everyone in the store that had been a witness.

Unlike Kelsey, who always swore when I snuck up on her, Bryce had spun around in his chair before throwing a stapler at me.

For which he had promptly apologized.

"I put this system in because Dana was worried that as DA, I wouldn't be too popular with the shadier side of this city…. Always bringing up what happened to Harvey Dent," he sighed, "I don't want to insult your work or anything, but if Batman can get in without being caught on any sensor or even a camera... who else can?"

I found my mind and heart both settling and I sighed before saying, "From the stories Jim Gordon used to tell us… the guy could walk into the Oval Office without being caught."

"I wouldn't put it passed him… I still can't even believe I get to work with him… well, at least when he wants to work with me. Most of the time he's to the bottom of some crime before we know it's even happened… I'm still not convinced he's human…"

When he didn't continue, I finally said, "From what the installation file said, you have a maximum residential security set up… which means aside from a pair of laser cannons on the deck there's not much we can do…" As a second thought, I added, "But sometimes where technology is beaten, sometimes it helps to go back to the basics."

"Like what?"

Thinking of the flat, slobbering face that was waiting for me at home, I asked, "Have you ever thought about getting a dog?"

"Seriously?"

I nodded, "I mean, we have a similar system as you at home but there's nothing quite as intuitive as a dog… we have a Boxer and he knows when there's unfamiliar footsteps coming up the walk and if something new has been in the backyard…"

Bryce shook his head, almost in awe, "Damn… I never even thought…"

"I bet with your connections you could pick yourself up a retired police dog, they're already trained… and I bet Dana could even take it to work with her, keep her company to and from the car…"

"Oh she'd love that… her own Rin Tin Tin… It's definitely a good idea…" he grinned at me, "Again, you guys are lifesavers… Say, Dana's working the night shift down at the clinic… want to grab a bite to eat?"

Completely surprised by his offer, I took a moment to reply, "I would but… I've actually already been invited to dinner at a friend's house in Bristol… It's kind of like a tradition, every other Friday…"

Bryce nodded, "No problem. I don't have much of a life away from the office, it's hard to remember that other people do… Listen, what do I owe you, for the house call?"

I shook my head, "Please, it's on us. Far be it for us to charge others for being paranoid. If our customers weren't looking over their shoulders we'd be out of business."

"Are you sure?"

After begging him off a second time, he led me to the front of the house. I set the toolkit down before donning the coat that had been hanging on the rack behind the door. As I zipped up, he offered, "Well, if you ever have any parking tickets or jaywalking fines, let me know."

We shook hands again and he thanked me once more before I was able to get out the front door. It wasn't until I had gotten in the Accord and backed out of their driveway that I exhaled, "Wow…"

I dialed Cass' cell and ended up listening to her voicemail. After _This is Cass, leave a message_, I said, "Hey it's me, I'm done at Bryce's… which was interesting… I'm going to the Clocktower to work out with Dick then if you want we can meet there to go up to the Manor for dinner."

I hung up and then abruptly dialed her again. After the tone sounded for her voicemail, I said, "Elephant shoe."

^V^

I had just finished my afternoon tea in the breakfast nook when I heard the service door open from the far side of the kitchen. Master Nathan's footsteps raced over the tiles and were lost to the carpeting of the corridor. His sister moved at a more languid pace, pausing at the island counter no doubt to admire the new fruit arrangement I had put out. Ms. Selina's paces, marked by her heels, prominently followed those of her children, through the kitchen and into the hall.

Just as I heard Master Bruce's first step, I rose and made my way into the kitchen, quickly selecting the small glass of water and two Ibuprofen that I had already counted out ahead of time. As he passed through the arch of the kitchen, I flashed a slight smile before extending my offerings, "I take it you are not in need of any additional medical treatment, Master Bruce?"

There was no denying the exhaustion of his features but rather than stumble through the threshold at the whim of his autonomic central nervous system as he had after Miss Mattie's kindergarten field trip, he appeared to be coherent and content.

He nodded his thanks and took the pills and downed them dry, neglecting the glass of water. I dumped its contents into the sink before arranging the glass upside down. When he did not proceed out of the room, I questioned, "Might one inquire as to how the day faired, sir?"

"It was actually… nice. Fun, even… He's almost completely different when he's with his classmates… I couldn't believe how well he behaved---."

A shrill scream sounded down the hall near the entertainment den followed by a young boy's delightful if not sinister laugh.

"Master Nathan must save his enthusiasm for when he is with his family, sir."

Master Bruce nodded before leaning against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest, "I don't understand, Alfred. He's so good and then… he's so bad."

I cleared my throat before responding, "Not unlike another five-year-old boy who once ran these halls."

"I was never that bad," he defended himself.

"I would not consider Master Nathan to be bad, he is simply a bright young boy who unfortunately suffers the consequences of his over eager imagination."

He hesitated before saying, "I know, it's just… hard. No matter what he does, I have to practically force myself to punish him for his actions… It's not that he's the baby and needs to be spoiled…"

"He's the child you almost lost and therefore the one you feel you must protect… even from yourself."

"I suppose you're right… but," Miss Mattie's scream sounded again as she ordered her brother to leave her alone. As Master Nathan's laughter grew, Master Bruce continued, "What am I going to do with him?"

"Love him, sir," the young boy suddenly raced into he room, colliding with his father's legs before spinning around and taking off back into the hall, all whilst he laughed to himself. As a second thought, I added, "Even if it kills you."

He walked out of the kitchen and the next shrill cry had been that of Master Nathan, just before his father declared, "I've captured Sher Kahn!"

For a moment, I found myself thinking back to a Sunday morning many, many years earlier. Ms. Martha and I had been sharing tea in the nook when Master Thomas had walked in, his five-year-old son dangling upside down form his strong, surgeon's hands. Although Ms. Martha had promptly told her husband to put the boy down, her husband had replied, "Boy? What boy? I found this toy upstairs in Bruce's room… I think it's broken."

His face flushed red, both from his position and from laughter, a young Master Bruce had declared, "I'm not a toy, Dad, I'm a boy!"

"A toy that talks, Martha, when did we ever get this for him?"

I was shaken from my reverie as Miss Mattie entered the kitchen, hands on her hips, "Alfred, I thought you had today off?"

"I did, madam, I made a visit to the farmer's market as well as the Classic Car Museum, both enjoyable treats."

"You put my clothes away," she smirked.

"Well, one must tend to the bare essential daily tasks to maintain order."

She shook her head, "Well, you're not working anymore today."

"I'm afraid that might not be desirable as it is a Family dinner this evening, am I not mistaken."

She shrugged her shoulders, "I can handle it."

"But of course… However, what is the normal standard procedure for a 'day off'?"

Miss Mattie replied, "You do whatever you want."

"And there is nothing more that I desire than to aide you in preparing dinner."

"You are sneaky, Alfred Pennyworth," she laughed, "James Bond has nothing on you."

Together we prepared one of our favorite meals, starting with a roasted potato and fennel soup followed by beef bourguignon with sautéed pearl onions, mushrooms and carrots. And for dessert a peach and raspberry crisp, courtesy of the produce I had picked up at the farmer's market. A grand feast compared the usual nightly meals we prepared together but with the entire family attending, there would more than enough to go around.

As long as Master Timothy and Master Dick could limit themselves to three servings.

Although Miss Mattie pleaded with me, I opted out of dining with the family in order to prepare two plates of our culinary accomplishments for an evening visit with Dr. Thompkins. She had been invited to the Manor for dinner but as custom had unfortunately dictated, she had declined.

If she was not coming to dinner, then dinner was coming to her.

With the table set and food laid out, I left the Family dinner in the hands of the very eager and capable Mattie Elizabeth Wayne. Paper satchel in tow, I selected one of the less conspicuous, early model town cars in order to make the drive into the city. The other residents of the Wayne garage would have certainly invited trouble for myself in the bowels of Gotham.

As I navigated my way through the late evening traffic, I allowed my thoughts to drift at will. As they often did, they decided to settle on Master Bruce. Although his life had been blessed with happiness at last, I still could not shed the memories of standing at his side when his existence had been the absolute opposite. In those dark years, I had often wondered if he would ever allow himself the life his parents had desired for him.

A normal life.

By taking in Master Dick, my hopes were momentarily realized until my charge rebuffed the role of a father and replaced it with that of a mentor. It was a start, however, once which lead to nearly a decade of them battling each other, mentally, physically and emotionally. The tribulations they faced, alone and together, eventually proved that they were in fact father and son, bound not by the blood that ran through their veins but the blood that had been spilled before their very eyes.

But it wasn't this grand revelation that would finally actualize my aspirations for Master Bruce's prospect at normalcy.

I smiled as I thought back to the day Master Bruce had mentioned that he had begun to court Ms. Selina once more, nearly a decade after they had first taken interest in one another in both their masked and unmasked lives. Not only was she a formidable foe for the dark knight, she was nearly his equal, albeit on the opposing side. It often amused me to hear Master Bruce rattle off about his evening on Ms. Selina's arm but it was far more entertaining to hear him complain about losing his wits whilst facing Catwoman.

And as much as my mentor wanted to deny it, she still had the upper hand.

Although there was no reasoning behind it, I stopped at Leslie's small house, hoping against hope that she had made it home early. When I was greeted with darkened windows and a locked front door, I then proceeded to the Clinic, opting to take the car rather than travel the handful of blocks on foot.

Using the rear entrance, I carried the still warm bag of food in my left arm as I navigated the corridors with the ease of countless visits, both by day and regrettably by night. I turned to the left towards the offices and small and nearly inhuman kitchen. Far too often when I waited for Leslie as she took care of "one last patient" I busied myself by scrubbing and scouring the neglected countertops.

"Alfred?"

I turned to see the seemingly always pleasant face of Dr. Bryce, of whom I had spent some time with over the last few years while lending a hand to the Clinic's blood drives and vaccination clinics. She looked the part of a ghetto doctor with tired scrubs dirtied with her day's work. I suddenly regretted not bringing a third plate.

"Good evening, Dr. Bryce."

"I didn't know you delivered," she smirked, "Leslie just went into her office, I think… It's been a pretty crappy day but I'm sure she'll try to pass it off as just another day."

"Perhaps I should have brought dessert rather than dinner."

Another smirk, "You do know the way to a woman's heart, don't you, Alfred?"

After a curt nod, I excused myself and continued down the hallway, finding Leslie seated at her desk behind two piles of charts that were defying the law of physics. Also battling gravity were a pair of half-rimmed glasses perched at the edge of her nose.

"Is that fennel I smell?" she said without looking up from the chart she was reviewing.

"That it is, my dear," I affirmed her suspicions before entering the cramped office, "Dare I ask if there is anything I can do to---."

She interrupted me with a quiet sigh followed by, "Actually… there's not much even I can do."

After carefully setting the bag on one of the empty chairs that faced her desk, I asked, "Is everything all right?"

She removed and folded her glasses before placing them on the cluttered desk, "My first case today was a twenty-three year old male, three gunshot wounds from a drive by shooting at four this morning. He escaped recovery this afternoon and not two hours later returned, internal sutures completely ripped open…" Leslie shook her head before continuing, "He bled to death within ten minutes of passing through the door."

I stepped towards her, setting a hand on her narrow shoulder, "I am so sorry…"

"At first I had been sorry as well… but then a pair of gunshot victims came in shortly after him… The twenty seven year old male that had been involved in the drive by… and a five year old boy that had been caught in the retaliation."

The glassy look that suddenly came over her tired blue eyes answered my unasked question of how the two had faired. Before I could offer any form of verbal or even physical comfort, she continued, "I've spent my entire life trying to bring peace to this city… trying to make the lives of strangers safe. And after forty years…" tears began slipping over her cheekbones, "After everything I've strived for… violence still prevails."

"Leslie, I---."

She stood and looked into my eyes, reaching up to rest her hand over my heart, "No, I know what you're going to say. That I have to be strong, that I have to have faith… But I can't… I haven't for some time."

Without a moment's hesitation, I pulled her to me, feeling her tears soak through my sweater. As my hands gently rubbed her shoulders, I whispered into her ear, "You are the strongest woman that I have ever known, Leslie."

"Don't flatter me, old man," there was a fraction of humor in her voice. But after she sighed, the humor had been replaced with a tremor, "I've come to realize that I need a life away from this city…"

She pulled back slowly before locking her gaze with mine, "And a life with you."

^V^

"I was a good boy, today."

"You were?"

"I sat in my seat on the bus… ate all my carrot sticks at lunch… and I stayed in my group all day." Although she tried to keep a straight face, Selina gave into laughter as I added, "And I tied my shoes without Ms. Peeler's help."

"My, you were a good boy."

In order to recover from the day, and the dinner we had hosted, Selina and I had decided to share a lavender oil laced bath. While she ran the water, I checked Nathan's room to make sure he was still in bed. Lately he has been getting out of bed after being tucked in so that he could play after lights out. Nights that he was up late on his own lead to mornings where it was a battle to get him ready for school.

Those days, he was my son and not Selina's.

I found him snoring away, exhausted after his first field trip. I was still in awe of how well he had behaved and had even gone as far as asking his teacher what her secret was for unruly students. She had smiled before assuring me that Nathan was one of the best behaved students she had and was leading the marble count.

"The marble count?" I had asked as we were in the process of boarding the bus to return to the school.

"Each student has a glass jar. For good behaviors, such as sharing or following instructions, they receive a marble. For bad behaviors, like yelling or hitting other students, they lose two marbles. Students with the most marbles at the end of the week receive prizes."

"Marbles…" I had smiled.

She nodded, "Right now he has forty-six of them and he's only had two taken away but that was because he didn't want to share his crayons one day."

I couldn't help but smile, thinking how possessive he became when he colored.

After fixing his blankets and kissing the top of his head, I returned to the hall and paused after shutting his door. As tempted as I was to check in on my daughter, I knew it was unnecessary. She was turning thirteen in a little over three months and as much I wanted to deny it, she was growing more independent each passing day.

Just before lunch wrapped up at the zoo earlier that day, Mattie had walked over and asked if she could go to one of her classmate's the following day after her riding lesson to finish a project. Even with the short notice, I had no problem with it and told her so. She hugged me quickly before stealing another pineapple juice and returning to her friends.

It wasn't until the ride home that I told Selina about the slight change of plans for Saturday. She had been sitting in the passenger's seat looking through the digital pictures on the camera. As she deleted a blurry image of Mattie and what looked like a goat, she had asked, "Oh, what project?"

"Nutrition, right, kitten?" I had glanced at her in the rear view mirror.

Mattie nodded, her eyes never leaving her iPod.

Selina began laughing quietly and when I asked why she shook her head, "Oh, nothing… Only, do you know how to get to Marc's house?"

"Who's Marc?"

She grinned at me, "Her home economics partner."

I opened my mouth to ask my daughter why she had failed to tell me her partner was a teenage boy when Selina had intervened, "So, Nathan, what do you want to do tomorrow, it's just you and me."

As he began listing off activities at random, starting with jumping jacks, I allowed the fuse to smolder out. Although I was doing my best to accept the fact that my daughter was forming relationships with boys, I had a difficult time accepting that they would remain platonic. Terry was a bright, well-mannered and amiable young man who had always been welcome in my daughter's life. But with other boys starting to notice her athletic figure and deep blue eyes…

If I interceded in the normal childhood that I had promised my daughter, Selina was certain to start lacing my morning coffee with laxatives.

A risk I was willing to take.

When I finally returned to the bedroom, I found the lights had already been dimmed. I followed the glow of candles originating from the open bathroom door and found Selina already lounging in the spacious tub. Keeping her eyes closed, she asked, "Get lost?"

After a beat, I posed my own question, "How long as she known Marc?"

Selina opened her right eye and stated, "Since homeroom on the first day of middle school. Now drop it… and your pants."

I leaned against the sink, "Why hasn't she told me about him?"

She closed her eyes and settled back in the tub, "The same reason she never tells you anything that is inconsequential… Bruce, pants."

As I undid my belt, I continued, "Well… if she has new friends, there's no reason to hide it from me."

"True, but when she has new girl friends, you're more apt to say, 'Nice to meet you.' If she has a new boy friend, you're more apt to say, 'Hands against the wall and spread them!'." I went to open my mouth to reply but she spoke first, "You've been a good boy today, Bruce, don't push it."

I didn't.

We soaked in the tub for the better part of a half of an hour without saying another word. She pulled the stopper with her toes and began to rise, fighting a yawn as she stepped out of the tub. As I stood, I glanced through the doorway to see the alarm clock readout putting it a little before eleven.

"Was Alfred staying in town?"

After donning her bathrobe, Selina bent over to wrap her hair up in a towel, "It is the man's day off."

I nodded before reaching for my own towel, "Well, we should call… what if he wasn't staying… it's a long drive and---."

When she stood upright, Selina turned to face me, "Do you really want to call them when they're together… alone… this late at night?"

I swallowed audibly before responding, "You're right, I bet they're fine."

She stepped into the bedroom after grabbing a bottle of Vitamin E lotion off of her sink. As I toweled, I watched as she took a seat on the edge of the bed before applying it to her legs, feet and arms. After wrapping the towel around my waist, I approached her with a slight smirk, "Missed a spot."

Somehow, she kept her lips straight, "Oh, have I?"

"Yes, you have… I'd hate for you to suffer dry, rough skin…" I whispered as I leaned over her, ready to press my lips to her.

She reached up and covered my face with a hand full of lotion, "Sorry, I'm smooth as a baby's bott---."

I pressed my lips to hers anyway, giving her a share of the lotion on my face. As she tried to squirm out from under me, I set my hands firmly on the mattress on either side of her, keeping her in place. Just as whenever I had her cornered, whether it be on a rooftop or the couch, she resorted to violence as a means of escape. Sharp nails plunged just below my ribcage and I retreated just before they went to strike at my kidney.

I would have retaliated but I was being a good boy that day.

Thankfully there was less than an hour left.

I took my revenge quickly and without mercy. Selina tired to defend herself but once my fingers started pinching and tickling the flesh of her sides she managed to surrender between raging laughter. I moved to lay on top of her and said, "And they say cat's can't be tamed..."

That was all it took.

In a blink of an eye I was rolling off of the bed, landing hard on my back. I barely had the time to take a breath before she jumped on top of me. The claws came out once more, this time not stabbing but scratching, leaving bright red lines down my chest. Not enough to draw blood but it left my skin tingling. At one point, as her legs were entwined with mine while her teeth gnawed on my ear lobe, I could of sworn she had growled, "Bad boy."

We finally fell asleep shortly before one, Selina striving for warmth as she pressed her body against mine. I dozed off myself but woke with a start after dreaming about something dark and rabid chasing me. The clock said I had only been sleeping for less than four hours but I found myself as rested as if I had slept all night.

Then again, for most of my life that was more than a full night's sleep.

I gave up after thirty minutes of breathing exercises followed by ten minutes of watching Selina mumble in her sleep. Knowing that I wasn't going to be a welcome bedmate, I left Selina and the warmth of the bed without turning the lights on. After putting on my robe and a pair of slippers, I made my way into the hall, not even slowing at the closed bedroom doors that lead to my children's sleeping forms.

On the autonomic control my body had been subject to for nearly thirty years, I found myself taking the stairs two at a time, turning left at the bottom to head towards the study. As I passed down the corridor, I paused momentarily when I heard a door shut quietly. With the three residents of the household slumbering upstairs and with Tim, Dick and Cassandra more apt to use the Cave entrance at that hour, it left only one other.

Or rather two.

I closed in on the kitchen entrance but kept myself concealed behind the wall as I heard quieted footsteps on tile and a hushed female voice, "Alfred… this isn't exactly what I meant..."

Leslie…

Alfred cleared his throat before sighing, "It is a start… a few hours rest and a good breakfast---."

She sighed, "Is that what I need?"

"It's a start."

"And after that? A relaxing day, afternoon tea and a hearty dinner."

"Courtesy of yours truly."

I quickly made my way down towards the study and about-faced just as they walked into the hallway. Alfred guided her with a hand on her lower back as they turned towards the stairs. Even though I hadn't made a sound, he paused and looked over his shoulder, "Master Bruce?" As Leslie turned, he continued, "Is everything all right, sir?"

"Couldn't sleep…" I gave a quiet reply before offering a smirk of reassurance.

"Something on your mind?" Leslie asked. It was then that I realized she was still wearing medical scrubs beneath her wool coat. So much for enjoying an evening together.

Alfred stepped towards me, asking if there was anything he could offer me. When I declined, he set a hand on my shoulder, "Then might I suggest attempting to sleep once more… I fear it is far too early for the day to begin."

When I didn't make a move, Leslie smiled warmly at me, "Bruce, Alfred said it's time for bed."

I couldn't help but smirk again, thinking back to all those nights she had acted as Alfred's reinforcement when trying to care for me after my parents' deaths. Although for the most part I had been inconsolable with anger and depression, there had been times that I had taken it out on Alfred. It was on those nights that Leslie graced the Manor, doing her best to mediate between the two of us.

Where I had always been able to show Alfred defiance in bouts of anger, I was never able to do the same to Leslie.

… _My name is Leslie, everything is going to be all right…_

I didn't believe her that night, nor the nights that followed.

But after a lifetime of trying to resist it, I believed her. Every time I saw Mattie giggle as Dick tickled her "to death", I believed her. Whenever I opened my briefcase and found that Nathan had stashed his drawings inside, I believed her. Even with the welts stinging on my chest, I believed her.

As long a she was there, everything would be all right.

^V^


	29. What Lies Ahead: XXIX

Title: What Lies Ahead: XXIX

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: The Family celebrates Christmas, in the absence of loved ones and in the presence of a newcomer.

Author's Note: After three years… the last chapter! Thanks again for the reading and reviewing. I can only hope you've enjoyed reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it.

^V^

"Babs?"

I was in the den wrapping Christmas presents when I heard Dick's cry of anguish. With a smile on my face, I ignored him and continued to wrap Nathan's Giants football jersey, complete with WAYNE and the number 5 embroidered on the back.

Two minutes later, there was another cry, sounding more like a whining ten-year-old rather than my husband, although the margin between the two wasn't that extreme.

Finally, I replied, "No, Dick."

"But… It's Christmas eve…"

After putting a new set of gymnast leotards in a gift box for Mattie, I sighed before slowly making my way down the main hall towards what had once been Dick's refuge. Less than two weeks earlier, it had been a haven for all the things we had salvaged from his bachelor pad in Bludhaven, namely that stupid ceramic white dog. But as strongly as he felt about the neon beer sign he stole from the bar he briefly worked at as well as the Dogs Playing Poker print, his desire for fatherhood was far stronger.

After moving all of his once precious possessions in storage on a lower level of the Clocktower, Dick had stripped and stained the hard wood floors and painted the walls a shade of blue called Winter Lake. I had also left it up to him to decorate, even though I was slightly fearful he would go with a circus theme. After a day locked in the room by himself, he had opened the door and triumphantly announced he was done.

He made me cover my eyes as I entered and when I opened them, I couldn't believe what lay before me.

On each of the walls, he had painted puffy clouds and as I looked closely I spotted several types of bird silhouettes soaring high. As Dick motioned me to look up, I smiled to see that he had faded the blue of the walls onto the ceiling, changing it to a dark sky, highlighted with stars.

"Dick, this is beautiful… but how did you…?"

He had smirked, "Trading Spaces marathon yesterday. I figured it was time I learned how to properly spice up a room with decorative sponge painting."

We had spent a good chunk of savings on furnishing the room with white painted oak dressers, a pair of bookshelves, a changing table, crib and rocking chair. Although I had pleaded with Dick to pay the additional five hundred dollars for the delivery men to assemble everything he had responded, "I can disarm a bomb, how hard can putting a bookshelf together be?"

As he fought with furniture for a week straight, I had taken on the easier and far more enjoyable task of shopping for toys, clothes, books and supplies required to care for a nine-month-old boy.

A nine-month-old boy named Ethan Gordon-Grayson.

I had already caught Dick practicing his lullaby, "I am the eggman, they are the eggmen, I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob" in the shower.

After our home visit and interview in October, we had been cleared through the adoption process and placed on a list of parents looking to adopt a child under the age of ten months. Unfortunately, we were number forty-eight on the list.

On the eighteenth of December, as I was struggling with the fact that I was celebrating Christmas for the second time in the year since I had lost my father, I had received a phone call. The phone call. Somehow I had managed to stay in control as Ann Hutchins, the woman who we had interviewed with, told me that there was someone she would like us to meet. Something I had been waiting to hear since Dick and I had decided to adopt last February.

That afternoon, after Dick had skipped out of work early, we had made the drive to Evanstown on the other side of the city to the residence of Emile and Nancy Andrews. They had been foster parents for nearly two decades, in which time they had opened their doors and their hearts to over fifty children. At the time of our visit they were taking care of five children, ages nine through four.

And Ethan.

As Nathan's chubby little body sat on my lap for the first time, Emile had explained that his parents had been tragically killed in a car accident less than a month earlier on their first night out alone since he had been born. His only surviving relatives were grandparents who felt they were unfit to raise another child and an aunt and uncle in California who were too busy career wise to take him into their lives. On the car ride home that night, Dick had damned to the depths the muttonheads unwilling to take Ethan, naturally in a pirate snarl.

At nine months of age, Ethan had already begun to ramble in his own language, crawled all over the place and was fascinated with a turtle named Franklin from an early childhood development TV program. As much as Dick had joked about wanting a little redhead, the little boy's caramel curls did little to deter Dick's brilliant smile. After we both had a chance to sit with him for a bit, Ethan's foster mother set him in a hanging chair that brought giggles of delight from the boy as he began to bounce up and down. Rather than sit with the adults, Dick chose to sit beside Ethan, tickling tiny feet when they left the floor.

"Well, he certainly likes the both of you, he's very social but if he doesn't like someone he lets you know in a hurry," Nancy had smiled as she watched Dick play with her foster son.

I had looked on as well, "He seems so happy… and you said he's already had two teeth come through?"

Emile had nodded proudly, "He fussed a bit but nothing like we've seen in the past. He really is just a happy baby. Damn shame what happened, you can tell how much his parents loved him…" After I had nodded, Emile continued, "Well there's only a few final things but from what Ann was saying, you being first time parents… he'll be a real sweetheart for you… At least until adolescence."

Dick had joined in suddenly, his eyes never leaving Ethan, "My little sister is turning thirteen next month… She was an angel at this age… I can't even believe she was ever this small…"

Nancy had responded, "They grow up so fast…"

The few final things Emile had mentioned had involved the final contracts, adoption fees as well as a hefty donation from Dick's trust fund and changing Ethan's name officially. With everything complete, he would be moving home with us the weekend of Christmas.

Our Christmas miracle. Or as Dick had joked, the Quasi Virgin Birth.

We had decided to allow Ethan to spend Christmas morning with his foster parents before picking him up to take him to meet his new family. Even though I had insisted that we tell everyone ahead of time, Dick had been adamant that he wanted to make it a big holiday surprise. He had even gone as far as getting gag gifts to celebrate, including a "Number One Grandpa" trucker's hat for Bruce, an "I love my Grammy" coffee mug for Selina and "Voted Best" Aunt and Uncle tee-shirts for Nathan and Mattie.

As we had wrapped them up the week before Christmas, I had sighed. When Dick asked if I thought Bruce was going to kill him for his gift, I had replied, "No, I was more worried about Selina."

I was still in awe that we had managed to keep it a secret from everyone but I knew Selina was suspicious of something, as was Alfred. Interestingly enough, Bruce seemed not to have a clue but in all honesty he was preoccupied with being endlessly fretting over Mattie's adolescence. Although she was still the ever loving and endearing girl we had watched grow from an infant, there was no denying she was becoming her own person. Cass said that her work with her was growing far more advanced than she had ever intended, mostly because of the girl's effortless and natural ability.

Of course Bruce was troubled by that, but he had been far more wary of the semi-formal dance she had attended the weekend before school had let out for winter break.

When I made it to the nursery, I found Dick's legs sticking out from under the crib, his bare feet kicking softly as he mumbled and cursed to himself.

"What was that?" I asked with a smile.

"I know, I know… I should have paid the delivery guys… Can you get me a flat head screw driver?"

There was a toolbox sitting to the left of his legs and as I searched its chaotically arranged contents, I said, "Want me to call Will? Or will that ruin the big surprise?"

After I handed him the screwdriver, he replied, "No… I got it… It's the stupid drawer that is underneath the crib… it keeps catching on this edge back here… And besides Will is on a date."

"A date? I thought the girls were coming up for the week?"

He grunted, cursed quietly then replied, "No, he has them next week, they're with the she-devil this week…"

I sat back and watched as his toes scrunched together as he concentrated on his work, "I didn't even know he was seeing anyone."

"Yeah, a paralegal who works down at Barkovitch and Sons. She's Tim's age but I guess she likes older men."

"Well… is it serious, I mean are they moving in together or---."

He suddenly pushed himself out from under the crib, "I don't know Babs, guys don't talk about stuff like that. I asked him if he had plans since he didn't have the girls, figured he could come up to the Manor for dinner but he said he was going skiing for the weekend with his girlfriend.. But when he gets back on Tuesday I'll seek out all of juicy gossip girl details for you.."

I watched on as he carefully inserted the empty drawer into the bottom of the crib, smiling when it didn't catch.

Victory.

^V^

The first course had been a spinach salad, with dried cranberries and walnuts dressed with balsamic vinaigrette

The second course had been chicken breasts stuffed with spinach, leeks and a brandy mustard cream sauce, paired with a twice baked potato and steamed asparagus with olive oil.

As Dana served the third course, miniature chocolate mousse cakes with slivers of strawberries, I looked over to Tim. The look on his face was as if Two Face had asked him if he could exchange his silver dollar for four quarters so he could buy a soda from the vending machine.

After Dana took her seat beside Jack, I finally said, "This was delicious…"

Tim added after tasting a spoonful of mousse, "We were just going to get pizza for dinner."

Dana grinned before stabbing a strawberry delicately, "Oh, thank you… I figured since you'll be next door tomorrow we could have our own Christmas dinner tonight… Even though I'm sure this would be child's play compared to Alfred."

Tim interjected, "I don't know, that sauce with the chicken was definitely Alfred caliber."

She began to blush slightly, "Aw, thanks, Tim."

There was a brief moment where only forks on plates broke the silence.

I kicked Tim hard under the table and he did his best not to jump before speaking, "You know, there's always room for two more tomorrow…"

Jack shook his head, "That's kind of you Tim but we, uh… we don't want to intrude."

"Dad, you and Bruce have been neighbors my whole life… I'm pretty sure you joining them for dinner doesn't count as intrusive. Besides, you haven't seen the kids in who knows how long."

"That's not true, I saw them the other day down at the park sleding---."

"Dad…"

"Jack, please," Dana started.

Her husband continued, "I'm just saying that---."

"Ahem." The Drake family looked at me in unison after I cleared my throat. As I folded my napkin, I announced, "I'm going to let Robbie out for a bit."

Tim and Jack stood as I rose from the table and when Tim went to follow me, I shook my head, "I've got it, besides you didn't clear your plate." With a smirk I pointed out that my dessert was long gone while his was practically untouched.

Leaving them to sort out matters, I navigated the ground floor of the Drake household, finding Robbie passed out on his dog bed in the entertainment room towards the back of the house. Following dinner with his parents, Tim and I planned on suiting up in the Bat-Cave before heading out on patrols for the evening, leaving little time to stop in and check in on our boy. While we were out for a quick patrol, we would lock him in the costume vault where anything of value was either indestructible or high enough out of the Boxer's reach.

In recent years we had always slept over Christmas Eve at Wayne Manor but Tim and I had decided to volunteer at the Free Clinic in the morning to help serve Christmas breakfast and hand out gifts to the less fortunate. A tradition that had been in practice as long as Leslie had acted as Gotham's peaceful guardian.

One that needed to continue even without her.

I still had trouble believing she had left the city. She had been there since I had first set foot on the broken streets that had been left behind by the earthquake and I had expected her to be there forever. She had told me that she was leaving when I visited her one night in October for a tetanus booster and a few stitches after cutting myself during a fight on a fire escape. I had thought she meant to take a vacation and when I asked how long she had planned on being away, she replied, "Forever."

Thinking back, it wasn't hard to see why she wanted to get away. She had sacrificed her life to helping others and although she had done wonders for the city, it was still burdened with crime and violence. The family that she loved was out of her reach while she was taking care of strangers. Even Leslie couldn't fight the odds forever.

I had asked her, after removing my mask, where she intended to go.

"Africa… I once worked there with Doctors Without Borders… I made a difference… I'd like to again."

As I had sat on the treatment bed, watching her bandage my arm, I had commented, "Africa's a far way to go to get stitches."

Leslie had smiled softly before replying, "Dana Bryce will be taking over the clinic… her efforts since she's been here… and the discretion working with Tim earlier this year has proved her worth. It's up to you whether or not you reveal your identities to her… Just keep in mind the burden of secrets on any relationship."

Two weeks later, she had headed for one of the larger camps in West African Republic of Sierra Leone where Malaria was running rampant, particularly in children under the age of five. Apparently, she had wanted to go to the Sudan but with the raging violence, Bruce had threatened to follow her if she had. Although she had missed the last two Thanksgiving dinners at Wayne Manor, her empty chair was that much harder to look at.

I could only imagine what Christmas day was going to be like.

As I walked into the den, Robbie's ears twitched before his eyelids opened, revealing very tired brown eyes. Tim and I had spent the entire day at home with him, playing fetch in the back yard, talking a long jog through the park's paved pathways followed by the always physical and entertaining bath. Although Robbie was fearless of the sights and sounds of the city, a porcelain tub with soapy water filled him with terror.

Once he had been partially dried off, the dog had managed to escape Tim's grasp, bounding out of the bathroom and down the hall to the master bedroom to find refuge under the bed. By the time Tim and I had showered and dressed for dinner, Robbie was ready for a truce. With a bowl of dog food topped with a few crumbled Christmas cookies, Robbie forgave us.

After a quick walk, we had loaded him, his bed and a few toys into the back of Tim's Honda before making the trip to Bristol. As Robbie had looked out at the world from the backseat, I fiddled with the satellite radio until I found the Holly station yielding seasonal music. As Harry Connick, Jr. tried to sing It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas, I leaned back in the seat and had asked, "There was a big bag of gifts in the trunk."

"I said no peeking," Tim had tried to reply in a serious tone.

"Saw one with my name on it."

"Well, Dad wanted to open gifts tonight so I figured I'd bring one of yours so you could open it."

"I didn't bring one for you."

He had smirked, "Don't worry; I picked one out from under the tree."

In light of the fact that we both loved the Charlie Brown Christmas special, each year we selected the smallest, frailest tree to bring back home to decorate. Dick had dropped by one year and had started laughing out loud at the sight of us decorating our cheap tree with elegant crystal ornaments. After I had threatened him with the star, he had decided it was a beautiful tree.

"What one did you pick out?" I had asked.

"A little blue box."

"Did it have a tag?" When he shook his head, I had begun to laugh, "That was for Robbie."

"…Well, I'm sure he'll share with me."

Upon arriving at Jack and Dana's, we were met with fragrant aromas of fine cuisine, of which was frightening. Tim had asked what was for dinner and Dana had said it was a surprise. A pleasant one at that.

I had stolen a scrap of chicken and used it to lure Robbie out of his sleepy state. I held it above him before asking "Are you hungry?"

He snapped to attention before grumbling softly, opening and closing his mouth as if he were speaking. With a smile, I gave it to him before patting his side, "Let's go out."

Since their back yard dwarfed ours, once Robbie was out the back door he came to life, bounding in the snow and spinning in circles as he began chasing his nub of a tail. I watched on, leaning against the iron railing of the rear patio, wishing I had brought my coat out. As I let him burn off some energy, I checked my watch to see it was a little after seven-thirty. In less than two hours we would be on the streets of Gotham, hopefully touring the city without incident.

Even criminals celebrated the holidays.

Where Tim and I were going to be absent from Wayne Manor the following morning, so was Dick and Barbara. They were spending the morning with Jim Jr., Maureen and little Sarah, opening presents before having brunch together. From there, we all planned on heading up to celebrate with the Family before the ritual Alfred Pennyworth feast. Dick had promised a big surprise for everyone to enjoy and I secretly hoped Barbara had made the miniature peach cobbler cups.

Having never been close to my father, I had a hard time relating to the fact that she had lost hers. Dick and Bruce had both gone through it, although in different forms. Even Tim had lost his mother at a young age. I felt she was doing well but I knew there was something wrong with her. She had always been very honest with me but I couldn't help but think she was hiding something.

I was thinking of her sad green eyes when I felt warm arms encircle me from behind, "You do know it's freezing out here?"

I leaned back against Tim and said, "Not anymore."

After calling Robbie, we made our way back inside and found the Drakes in the front den where their brilliant Christmas tree was decorated with white lights, shimmering white ribbon and glass ornaments of silver and gold. Dana served hot cocoa before we began passing around gifts, the heated moment at dinner long forgotten.

As expected, Robbie did not share his gift, a rubber ball with dog bone shaped cutouts revealing a center filled with treats.

After we had opened our gifts from his parents, including matching terrycloth robes, slippers and brass knuckles, Tim gave me the gift from him. After I unwrapped the box and opened it, I looked at him with a puzzled look, revealing to everyone a magic eight ball.

Before I could ask for an explanation, Tim stated, "You have to wait until tomorrow. Until then, consider it just a dumb cheesy toy."

I smirked, "You're a dumb cheesy toy."

Jack laughed while Dana gasped.

I guess she wouldn't have liked the "that's what she said" joke Tim had whispered to me when she had apologized for overstuffing the chicken.

^V^

"I want to change his next diaper."

"It's all yours… especially after you overfed him," Barbara laughed at me as she pulled up the drive to Wayne Manor.

Ethan's first Christmas had started with a hearty breakfast of smashed bananas and rice cereal at his foster home. From there, he had eaten again when we had gone to Jim and Maureen's for presents and brunch. I had been too excited to eat anything and had been barely able to keep from spilling coffee on myself.

As scheduled, we had arrived at the Andrews residence at half passed nine, just in time to see Ethan sitting under the tree in front of his older foster sibling Jackson. Although we had only known their family for less than two weeks, Barbara and I had brought presents for them, clothes and winter wear for the kids and five thousand dollar gift from the Wayne Foundation for Emile and Nancy in honor of their selfless work.

When Emile had tried to decline it, Dick smirked, "I forgot to get a receipt so I guess it can't be returned."

After watching Jackson help Ethan open his gifts, we had stayed for another hour as they took pictures with Ethan and the kids, themselves and then with us. Ann Hutchins even showed up, bringing lilies for Nancy and a box of homemade fudge for the family. Each of the kids hugged her in excitement and she asked each of them what Santa had brought them before asking about their studies and activities. I had suddenly wondered just how many children she knew on such a personal level.

As ten-thirty came around, we had watched tearful but happy goodbye's made to Ethan, who responded with smiles and giggles. After making sure that addresses and phone numbers had been exchanged between us, I set Ethan into his car seat promising, "This is going to be a hard Christmas to top, little guy."

Even though I had been adamant that we kept our adopting a baby secret from the Family, Barbara had managed to convince me that we would tell Jim and Maureen ahead of time. Since they had been the only ones to know of what was going on, they had been the only people we had been able to call when we found out Ethan was coming into our lives. Maureen had screamed in excitement into the phone loud enough for me to hear from the other side of the room.

At his first Gordon family gathering, Ethan had spent most of it on my lap, both while we opened gifts and while we ate. Sarah, who was only a few months older than him, had been very interested in her new cousin. Per request of both Barbara and Maureen, we had taken about a dozen posed photos of the two of them on the couch, beside the tree and amidst their gifts.

Although I had intended on changing his first diaper, Barbara and Maureen had maternally taken over and scooted off in excited chatterings to the guest room to clean him up. Jim had caught me looking after they disappeared into the hall and laughed, "Don't worry, Dick. I'm sure there will be plenty of poo to go around."

I had finally looked back to see Sarah sitting at Jim's feet, pointing out and rambling at the arrangement of plush fish Santa had brought her. "She loves fish," Jim had said suddenly, "We go to the pet store each week to look at them… even though we have a tank of them upstairs."

"I guess Ethan's a turtle man."

"Franklin?" Jim had asked.

"Yeah, I watched a few episodes the other day… can't get the song out of my head."

He had nodded and in unison we sang off-key, "Hey it's Franklin, coming over to play. Growing a little, every day!"

Jim had sighed, "She likes Franklin… but she like Dora better. And she goes ape for Blue's Clues."

I had instantly thought back to when I had first watched Blue's Clues with Mattie when she was still in diapers. At the time, it had been funny, watching a detective-esque kids show with the daughter of the Batman. Considering that it probably had a deep intellectual effect on her, thus spurning her need to learn everything in the realm of crime fighting, it was down right hilarious.

While sparring with Tim the other day, we had mused how Mattie was older than I had been when I had started busting evil doers. He had gone even further, after kicking me in the back of the head, "I hate to say it, but skill wise, I'd say she's better than both of us when we started out."

"Well, maybe she was better than you when you started out," I had smiled before kicking his legs out from underneath him.

"Hard to compete with both nature and nurture," he had quipped before jumping back to his feet.

I had smiled to myself thinking just how right he was.

"Ready?"

I looked up to see Barbara staring back at us from the rear view mirror. I was surprised to see that she had already pulled up to the garage, parking to the far left of all the other cars in order to keep us somewhat concealed. After looking back to see that Ethan was starting to chew on his sweater, I asked, "All right, what plan are we going with?"

"I don't know Dick, I'm torn between 'I hope you don't mind Bruce but I signed for this delivery' and 'Holy Candy Chaos, Baby Jesus came to celebrate his birthday!'."

Sighing, I replied, "You joke now but you know either one of those would make Bruce's eyes brows rise into his receding hairline."

She reached back and slapped my cheek, "Don't joke about that, I don't want to be a single parent."

I leaned in towards Ethan and smiled, "Mommy didn't mean it, your Papa doesn't kill people… but what he does far worse." When I looked up, I found Barbara's smile had changed slightly and I asked, "What?"

"Nothing it's just… Papa, I like it."

We finally decided that Barbara and I would go in with the presents and then I would run back out to the car, feigning that I had forgotten something. Upon my glorious return to the Family gathering, I would have in my arms one last present in addition to Ethan's carrier, diaper bag and bouncy chair.

Foolproof.

That was until Alfred came out to greet us, "Master Dick, Ms. Barbara, Merry Christmas and… my word."

As I got out of the car, I held up a hand, "Uh, Alfred… can you help Barbara bring in presents."

"Well, of course, as it's rather apparent you have your hands full. Shall I fetch Master Timothy and Master Bruce to help…"

"N-n-n-no… wait, Al… Wait…" I looked back to see Barbara had already gotten out of the car and was making her way around the back in order to join us. "I can explain, Al."

Fighting a smirk, Alfred stared directly into my eyes. I had faced a similar look as a child for practicing my trapeze act on chandeliers in the ballroom. It didn't matter that I was an adult, I still was unable to lie to him, "We wanted it to be a surprise… we've been trying to adopt for a year now… and I swear we just picked him up this morning and I would have told you sooner but I was afraid of what Bruce would think if you knew and he didn't and---."

He reached forward and patted my shoulder with his palm, "There there, young sir." He leaned forward and looked into the backseat where Ethan was beginning to fuss, "And there there, to you, young sir."

I should have been upset that my plan had been foiled by the brilliant gentleman's gentleman but it had actually allowed room for improvement. After we moved the presents, Ethan and his belongings into the house, Alfred stayed to watch over his new charge, the light in his eyes unexplainable. Barbara and I made our way to the den, following the sound of Christmas music and shrill giggles of another young sir. Upon passing through the entranceway, I smiled to see Cass and Tim were seated on the small leather sofa across from Selina and Mattie on the couch.

At the base of the massive fir tree, Bruce sat on the floor beside his son, watching on as Nathan emptied the contents of his Christmas stocking.

"Ho ho ho!" I bellowed, drawing everyone's attention.

Mattie hopped off of the couch and walked over, shaking her head while struggling not to smirk, "You are late, Richard."

Selina looked back at me, "Oh now you're in trouble."

I looked down at my sister, clad in dark jeans and a black tee accented with a pair of candy canes over her chest, "Would you believe we hit a reindeer?"

Her smirk finally broke through, "No."

Nathan spun around, using his father as leverage while he rose to his bare little feet, "You hit a w-eindee-uh?"

"No, tiger," Bruce started to explain, "He's just making a joke."

"It's a bad joke… shouldn't joke about huh-thing w-eindee-uhs," Nathan deemed before returning back to his stocking.

Selina laughed, "They're turning on you."

"On Christmas," Tim added.

Once we were all seated, Mattie took on the role of being in charge of distributing gifts, although she had delegated the actual deliveries to her younger brother. Just as we were about to open the first round of gifts, Alfred arrived with a tray full of hot cocoa and coffee. As he set them out for their respected drinkers, he paused beside me and said far louder than necessary, "Master Dick, I do believe there is a matter in need of your attention."

Sighing dramatically, I stood, "Diaper duty calls."

Bruce looked over at me as he began to open the gag gift we had given him, his brow lowering to narrow his eyes to blue slits, "Excuse me?"

I set the mug Alfred had given to me on the end table, "Sorry, I'll just be a minute, please, keep opening gifts, I'll be right back."

Bruce looked to Barbara but she was already busy thanking Cass and Tim for the new Bluetooth they had given her. His glare then shifted to Selina but she was equally confused although seemingly less upset about it. When his eyes found me again, I was still smiling, "Seriously, Bruce, open your gift."

He did.

As he held the horridly green Number One Grandpa trucker's hat in his hand, Nathan turned around and said, "You have to wea-uh it, Daddy," before taking the hat from his father and firmly pulling onto Bruce's head.

Before Bruce could open his mouth, Alfred, who had disappeared without my knowing, suddenly entered the room with a sleepy Ethan in his arms. As jaws dropped, the room grew very silent, with only Paul McCartney's voice singing softly about having a wonderful Christmas time.

Victory.

^V^

"Aunt Mattie, why aren't you wearing your shirt?" Dick called out.

I looked over at my daughter as she was leaving the den, "I have to help Alfred… I don't want to get squash on it."

After opening our gifts, everyone had taken to settling on the leather couches, still trying to absorb Dick and Barbara's big surprise. Bruce was obviously distressed over the fact that they had kept their adoption a secret from him. However, before he went about ruining the moment, I had threatened him with a quick glare before walking over to get my hands on the little guy.

Once we had all had a chance to hold him, we had returned to opening gifts as if Ethan had been part of the family all along. Although I still had to talk to Bruce, I had decided to wait until later that evening after our guests had departed. That way I would have his undivided attention and we would be in privacy should he blow a fuse bout Ethan.

And the necklace.

My main present from him had been a magnificent platinum necklace with ninety-one graduated brilliant cut diamonds with the center diamond weighing in at one and half carats. The stunning color and clarity of each jewel was enough to take any girl's breath away. I found myself speechless after opening the red velvet box but not because I had nearly two-hundred thousand dollars worth of jewelry was in my palm.

Son of a bitch...

As Cass and Tim helped Nathan assemble the Lego Pirate Island they had gotten him, I sat with Barbara and Ethan on the couch. For his first official day in the Family, he was fairing rather well. He had survived Cass's tickling, Tim's goofy faces, Nathan accidentally poking him in the forehead with a candy cane and Mattie's endless kisses. And of course Bruce's thorough going over.

After giving the little guy back to his mother, I excused myself before heading to the kitchen to see if I could be of any help. Long before I passed through the doorway, my taste buds started tingling at the strong aromas wafting my way. When I walked in, I approached Mattie and kissed her cheek before asking, "What's cooking, good looking?"

After adjusting her white apron over her outfit, she resumed mashing sweet potatoes, "Alfred said Ethan can eat these."

"He sure can. Just make sure there aren't any lumps."

She set her hand masher down and retrieved the cordless electric hand mixer, "Oh there won't be."

As she began to obliterate the minutest chunks of potato, I approached Alfred, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He turned away from the stove after carefully turning one last cheese stuffed turnip on a stainless steel tray before putting them back under the broiler, "But of course." He then turned to his culinary charge, "Miss Mattie, if you'll watch the turnips… and do check the pumpkin tart. I'll be but a moment."

She nodded and gave him thumbs up as she continued attacking the sweet potatoes.

We stepped into the nook where he already had a serving tray filled with crescent rolls set out beside four pies cooling on racks. As he checked them vigilantly, I said, "Alfred… I can't believe it."

"Nor can I. Although I must admit that it does explain why Master Dick and Ms. Barbara have been rather off of late."

I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms, "That's true… How long have you known?"

"Honestly, not twenty minutes before you, Ms. Selina." There was no reason to think otherwise but I still threw him a smirk. He responded, "Truer words have never escaped these lips, madam." I was about to speak when he sighed, "My only wish would have been that they chose to share this with us sooner…"

"For Leslie."

He nodded, his face unable to hide his sorrow. Of all of us, Leslie's leaving had struck him the hardest. It was difficult knowing that the Free Clinic was missing her presence but it was harder still to imagine that Alfred's life was absent of her as well. From what he had told me over the years, intentionally and otherwise, there was no one he held closer to his heart.

Not even Bruce.

The night she had departed for Africa, I had tried to put myself in Alfred's position, imagining a life without Bruce. Just as I had after his loss to Bane and when he had been shot by Pasqualle and was injured as Matches Malone and underwent radiation for his cluster headaches…

The mere thought of it brought tears to my eyes.

"Have you decided?" I had asked him suddenly.

Although he hadn't informed anyone else, Alfred had confessed to me that Leslie had strongly encouraged his company at the DWB facility. Naturally, he had declined, choosing his duties over his own personal desires. When I had asked why he chose to stay behind, he had only been able to reply, "Selina… if I had given into my heart at any point in my life… I'm afraid I would never met you… nor your children."

He fussed with the pies once more, no doubt hoping for a kitchen emergency to call him away, "I'm afraid I haven't the foggiest as to what you are referring to, madam."

"Don't play the fool, Pennyworth," I smirked at him softly, "And don't make me fire you so that you have an excuse to go to her."

He offered a slight smile of his own before replying, "As I have said before, I fear the day that this house is without me."

"This family, you mean," I corrected him.

"Both, my dear."

Before I could get another word out, Mattie appeared at the doorway, small orange specks dotting her apron, "The turnips are done but I'm not sure about the tart."

"Excuse me, Ms. Selina, duty calls."

After watching Alfred and Mattie return to the kitchen I made my way back to the den, suffering the same feeling as if I had failed cracking a Chrono STB Watch safe. Dinner lifted my spirits marginally as Dick and Barbara tried to feed their son his first dinner with them. Although most eyes were on the baby, I found my gaze shifting to Bruce's face. He managed to keep his half-smirk in check, but his eyes broadcasted the proud emotions that were running through him.

He was a grandfather.

About halfway through dinner, Ethan had grown tired and had begun to whine softly. Before reaching the infamous infantile nuclear level, I had offered to help Dick put him in Nathan's old nursery but instead, Bruce rose from the table and said, "I'll go."

What I would have given to have heard that one-on-one conversation…

Then again, they probably just did that manly monosyllabic grunting thing.

They had returned to the table nearly thirty minutes later and I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning at the sight of Bruce setting his hand on Dick's shoulder as they both sat down. After Bruce set his napkin back over his lap, I reached under the table and set my hand on his thigh.

His hand didn't take long to find mine.

After our guests departed, and after I had kissed Ethan's chubby cheeks one last time, I helped Mattie pick up the den while Alfred commandeered the dining room. Bruce opted to get started on washing Nathan up and reading to him before bed. After every last scrap of paper was picked up and all the presents were arranged neatly under the tree, we dimmed the lights and headed upstairs. Once we were on the third floor, Mattie turned into her room after giving me a quick hug, "Good night, Grandma."

I reached out and poked her side, "Hey, you don't get to call me that."

"Okay," she paused before sneaking into her room, calling out, "Granny," before shutting her door.

After allowing myself a brief snicker, I continued on down the hall and carefully opened Nathan's bedroom door. Even with the lights out, I spotted my son's slumbering form tucked in for the night. As quietly as possible, I crossed the floor and paused at his bedside, leaning over and kissing his warm cheek, "Merry Christmas, baby."

He wrinkled his nose and hugged his stuffed German shepherd harder.

When I finally made it to the master bedroom, I found Bruce in the bathroom splashing water on his face. I leaned against the doorframe and said, "Merry Christmas."

After shutting the water off, he grabbed a towel to dry his face, "Ho ho ho."

"Who are you calling a ho?" I growled as a smile fought my lips.

"Mrrow," he hit the lights and stepped towards me. It wasn't hard to tell what he was thinking given the particular sparkle in his eye but first he had some explaining to do. As he stood in front of me, he leaned in to kiss my neck, "I was hoping you'd wear the necklace to bed tonight.. and preferably nothing---."

"Why did you get me that necklace, Bruce?"

His lips found my skin just before he answered, "You like shiny things."

I pushed him away and replied, "No, why did you get me _that_ necklace?"

The sparkle in his eye disappeared as his brow lowered, "I don't understand."

"Why did _you," _I stabbed him in the middle of his chest with a finger,_ "_Get _me_," I pointed to myself, "…_that_ necklace?"

His brow wrinkled as anger began to creep over his face, "What are you talking about?"

It was then I realized it hadn't been a joke. That he had no idea what I was talking about.

That he didn't remember…

"Bruce, I stole that necklace from Martinique Jewelry twenty years ago. You chased me all over the city, finally catching me in Little Stockton before tackling me into a rooftop. I stabbed you," I touched his left side, just under his last rib, "Before making a run for it. But you managed to grab the necklace out of my bag before I got away."

"No that was---," he started.

I put my fingers to his lips, "Bruce, I have never, ever forgotten a steal… even a failed one."

He looked down at me for a moment before a smirk returned to his lips, "Very funny, but I've had enough old grandpa jokes today…"

"Bruce, look at me… I'm not kidding."

"Selina, I have an eidetic memory, I don't forget…" the anger was back but filtered through apprehension. Without another word he walked by me and out of the room.

I wanted to call out that he had forgotten quite a bit when he had been shot in the head but I held my tongue.

Barely.

^V^

"Now?" Batgirl asked as she swung a set of bolos at a perp that was trying to make a speedy getaway in the slippery snow.

After dislodging the nasal cartilage of a fellow evil doer who had been too dumb to run away from us, I growled back, "No."

Despite the fact that the streets of Gotham had been relatively quiet for Christmas, we had happened upon a pair of thugs trying to break into the Post Office. If Nightwing had been there, he would have no doubt made a quip about it being too late to send a letter to Santa to beg their way off of the Naughty list. But with it being their first night as parents, both Dick and Barbara had stayed home.

Even still, I found myself trying to contact Oracle several times over the course of the night.

Batgirl had joked that I had a shorter attention span than Nathan.

I had replied by saying, "What?"

I didn't know whether it was because it was Christmas or that it was just the two of us on the streets, but I had felt more like myself than I had in a long time. For the most part, I had been fairly successful in keeping my life from being completely absorbed by Batman. But as I looked over the last few years, I found far too many incidences that I had acted as Bruce would have rather than how I should have.

I wanted to think that I wouldn't have handled the bust on Hades as I had, both in my personal endangerment and yelling at Batgirl for her actions.

I tried to believe that I wouldn't have been angry about Huntress's return to Gotham.

I had almost convinced myself that I would have never barged in on Zsasz with a room full of hostages.

But I had.

Just as Bruce would have.

After we bound our Christmas criminals by the wrists and ankles, Batgirl mused, "Should hang them up, like stockings."

If sirens hadn't been fast approaching, I would have indulged as I was always appreciative of Batgirl's creative ways of disposing those she caught. Although her classic move had been to "trash" them by throwing them in a garbage dumpster, she had managed to perfect a number of alternative methods including hanging them upside down like a piñata, tying them to a tree after undoing their pants and my personal favorite, staking them to the wall with Batarangs through their clothes. Nightwing and I mainly stuck to binding their limbs and maybe hanging them upside down if we had the time.

Barbara joked that it was a Batgirl thing.

We made our speedy departure by shooting up grapples to the gargoyles on the roof of the First National Bank. As always, Batgirl landed two seconds before me, her smaller size making her ascension faster. When my feet hit stone, she was waiting for me, "Now?"

Shaking my head curtly, I looked over my shoulder towards the Clocktower, "No."

I could have sworn she huffed before she turned to leave.

With her eyes off of me, I allowed myself to smirk.

Since I had given her the magic eight ball for Christmas the night before, withholding its explanation, she had been increasingly interested in its purpose. She had asked me only twice during Christmas Eve patrols, and when I had declined to explain she had shrugged it off. She had asked me twice as we served breakfast at the Free Clinic, three times on the ride to Wayne Manor and another four times as we opened gifts and played with the kids. During dinner she had looked over at me six times, raising her left eyebrow in silent question.

And since we had started patrolling the city six hours earlier, she had asked me at least fourteen times, "Now?"

And each and every time, I replied without emotion, "No."

With only Uptown left to patrol, we would be home a little after three. Not as early as I had planned but after running into a band of twelve pickpockets in the theatre district, we had lost nearly an hour tracking them down in alleyways. But where finding them had been a task, it had taken mere seconds to remind them that it was a time for giving, not taking.

As I strode after her, a tone sounded on the comm. link followed by the police scanner coming to life. The dispatcher's monotone voice reported an assault in Robinson Park with three suspects last seen fleeing on foot towards the northeast entrance. The victim, a nurse jogging before heading early into work at Mercy General, had been a violently mugged and had managed to call 911 before losing consciousness.

And to think we were just on our way to Uptown…

Since the evening was fairly mild for the end of December, we had opted for cycles and wasted little time backtracking to them. With several police units already on their way along with an ambulance armed with paramedics, Batgirl and I headed to the northeast entrance. After parking in almost plain view, we split up and began making our way into the winter wonderland.

My infrared showed the only living things in range to be birds shivering in their makeshift nests and a pair of stray dogs that had huddled together under a set of hedges. As I headed west, Batgirl reported in as she made her way south, "Nothing."

I grunted in reply, "Same here…" I heard excessive crunching of snow from her end followed by a series of thuds and grunts. "Batgirl?"

"Now?" she growled before a snap and a shrill cry sounded.

"… No."

There was a rapid succession of smacks, yelps and cracks that was the soundtrack of a thorough ass kicking in progress. Every minute, she asked, "Now?" It didn't take a detective to deduce she was taking her frustration out on the muggers, not only for what they had done, but for the teasing she had undergone for more than twenty-four hours.

I suddenly wondered if her rage would be quelled by the time the three suspects were unconscious.

"Now?" she snarled before one final thud.

As I pictured my face at the other end of her ruthless fists, I managed to reply, "Yes."

She found me ten minutes later, practically jumping in front of me before crossing her arms, "Well?"

"Not here."

There was a flash of movement and it wasn't until she had struck me in the side of the head that I realized it had been her fist. With no significant force behind the blow, it had done no more harm than causing my head to turn an inch to the left. When I righted myself and glared down at her, she simply stood on her toes and pressed her masked lips to my cheek before whispering, "Race you home."

Again, she beat me, this time by a good twenty minutes. Where we had both arrived at the Sat-Cave at the same time, she had changed into a pair of sweats and a down vest before taking to the streets, no doubt running off whatever energy she had left as she made her way to the Townhouse. I took the time to shower and change into the jeans and sweater I had worn earlier that evening. As I entered in a condensed log of the night's activities, my cell phone chirped South Park's version of the Dreidle song.

I answered just as Kyle's dad sang _Courtney Cox, I love you, you're so hot, on that show_.

"Yes?"

"You said yes. Waiting."

Whenever Cass was upset or frustrated, she reverted back to her abbreviated language, wasting no time with excess words. After saving the log to the Sat-Cave computer system as well as to the backup crays in the Bat-Cave, I smirked, "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Better be," she said before hanging up.

I walked into the atrium of the Townhouse fourteen minutes later and after kicking my shoes off and hanging my leather coat on the antique coat rack, I made my way through the dimly lit corridor to the den. She was sitting on the brown leather couch with Robbie keeping her feet warm as he laid on them. When I passed through the arch, he looked up, his nub of a tail doing its best to wag. I scratched him behind the ears before sitting next to Cass.

She tried to stare me down but I was all smiles.

"Now?"

"Yes."

I picked up the magic eight ball, which had been sitting on the coffee table since we had come home after patrols the night before. I shook it slowly and began, "You never had a normal childhood… so you never had normal childhood toys. This is the epitome of childhood toys because it can answer every question you have."

"I don't get it."

"As Batgirl, you can make decisions in the fraction of a heartbeat. What's the quickest and most painful way to take down an opponent? What's the quickest route of escape? You don't need to think, you can just act… But as Cassandra," I looked into her eyes, "You don't have that ability. And there's nothing wrong with that, most of the world is indecisive when it comes to personal things."

A smile was beginning to crack on her face, "Like what?"

I began shaking the ball, "Well, little things. What to wear to dinner with my parents, for example. Tall or venti at the coffee shop? Curly fries with cheese or without… ok, maybe that last one is a no-brainer but…"

The smile lit up her face, "Thank you."

"Well, I should show you how to use it… only fair seeing how I had like nine of them, one of which was the highly coveted Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles one. I'd shake that one until I got Cowabunga as an answer..." I paused and thought up a question, "Did Dana cook dinner last night?"

I showed her the answer, _Don't count on it_, and she smiled.

"All right, so did Dad cook?"

_My reply is no_.

"Did Alfred?"

When the answer came up, _It is decidedly so_, Cass laughed out loud, "It does tell the truth."

"Every time. Past, present and future. Let's try something more serious… Will Cassandra do me the honor---" I glanced up to see her eyebrows had risen in shock before continuing, "Of taking Robbie out one last time to go potty?"

After she hit me, far harder than she had earlier that night, she shook the ball and showed it to me, _Better not tell you now_.

"Well in that case, how about… will Cassandra marry me?" Cass sat motionless and as she stared at me, I doubted she was even breathing. I reached out and touched her hands, "You have to shake it extra hard this time."

"Tim I---."

"Shake it. Like a salt shaker."

She finally shook the ball, the smile that had been on her face growing by the second. After she flipped the ball she grinned and offered it to me.

_Reply Hazy -Try again_.

I began shaking the ball forcefully, "Piece of crap toy… Sometimes it gets sassy and you have to show who's... What?!"

_Concentrate and ask again_.

Cass's laughter had reached hysterics as I shook the ball vigorously, muttering curses under my breath. Another ambiguous answer resulted and as I went to throw it across the room, she reached over and took it from me.

After she kissed me, she said, "Don't need a piece of crap toy to answer for me."

^V^

"Master Timothy, had I known you intended to return I would have prepared---."

I cut him off, "Afraid it's just me, Alfred."

"My apologies, Master Bruce…" he approached the main computer console where I was seated at the lone chair. I watched his reflection on the larger monitor as it paused to stand behind the chair and to the right.

Just like he always had, I mused.

"Reminiscing, sir?"

"Something like that," I replied quietly before closing the file I had opened, a newspaper scan of when Dick had closed the Mad Hatter kidnapping case in his first year as Robin.

Since Selina and I had argued earlier in the evening, I had been in the Cave monitoring criminal activities in the city as a means of distracting myself. With little illegal action taking place, or at least nothing that Tim and Cassandra weren't capable of handling on their own, I found temptation rising to look through ancient logs to see if Selina was indeed correct.

After I had closed the police scanners, I sighed before relenting, "Computer, search Catwoman."

Nearly a thousand flagged articles and log entries came up and I narrowed down the search to stay within the time frame Selina had mentioned. As I speed read several dozen logs and cases reporting upon her former criminal career, I finally came upon something of interest.

Something that caused my heart to skip a beat.

After skimming the log itself, I found a personal notation in the report and read words I had entered when I was a twenty-eight years old.

_Another encounter with Catwoman tonight (See incident report for __**11.30.88 - 02:34 AM, Martinique Jewelry, Webster Ave.**__) making it the sixth one this month (__**see Long Entries 11.4.88, 11.16.88, 11.18.88, 11.24.88 and 11.27.88).**__ Responded to silent alarm only to find Catwoman had set it off on purpose – a lure for me to chase after her. Confrontations seem to be involving less chasing and more talking. Only had to pursue her into Little Stockton before managing to restrain her. She was physically and verbally suggestive of a connection between us – clearly a distractive method as she stabbed my left side (__**note: Have Alfred update Tetanus booster in morning**__) with her claws. In the heat of the moment I managed to retrieve the stolen item (__**diamond necklace: see attached image**__) before she escaped my hold. It puzzles me that so many of the criminals I have faced, including females, have not been able to distract me with their words but Catwoman has no problem doing so. I will look into utilizing some sort of self hypnosis to try to and deter any of her offerings as next time I may not be lucky to be left with just a cat scratch…_

I selected the attached image, holding my breath as the computer brought it up in a new window.

A platinum diamond necklace with ninety-one graduated brilliant cut diamonds with the center diamond weighing in at one and half carats…

From there, I began selecting cases and logs at random, trying to find any other holes in my memory. After five hours, I found three things I had absolutely no recollection of, which had left me in a cold sweat. First had been an encounter with Anarky, one of many, but this particular incident had taken place early in his vocation. The next gap in time had been during Dick's later years as Robin where he had faced off with a group of teenage street thugs that had decided to form their own version of ninjas. Lastly, I was unable to recall a grave robbing ring I had unearthed when Mattie had been three years old.

The amnesia I had suffered from being shot had taken a year to subside, put into fast gear after I had taken to working with J'onn on recalling what I had lost. Although little things had surfaced during that year, when everything had come rushing back I had done my best to make sure everything was restored. In the months I spent tuning my mind and body in preparation to return to the mantle, I spent hundreds of hours reading through logs and cases at complete random selection.

As I looked at the access logs for the cases I had forgotten, I found that they had been opened during that time period. I had to have remembered them at that point or else I would have found myself in the same state of near panic that I currently was in. Having suffered a minimal number of minor head injuries since then, there was no physical reasoning for those memories to have been lost again.

But there was the radiation.

Two series of treatments, the second far stronger than the former, had a low chance of memory loss as one of the side effects. Given the location of the scar tissue that had caused my cluster headaches, I had been slightly concerned. But after the headaches subsided and the side effects faded away, I had considered myself in the clear.

_Why did you get me that necklace?_

I had been toying with the idea that the memories were not completely lost when Alfred appeared in the Cave. When I had seen the necklace on display while Christmas shopping for Selina something had urged me to buy it. Whether it was the fact that it was a stunning piece of jewelry or if I subconsciously knew it's true value, I was still undecided.

If the memories were intact but misfiring, then there was still a chance for them to be recovered.

Then again, I never one for seeing the glass half full.

As he watched me close the multiple windows before logging off of the computer, Alfred smiled, "Calling it a night, sir?"

My watch put it a little after four in the morning. No doubt Alfred had already put in his night's sleep and was up for the day. "I suppose…"

When I didn't rise from the chair, he cleared his throat, "Was there something amiss, Master Bruce?"

Nodding as I rose, I replied, "Actually, I forgot to give you something, earlier…"

"Oh, please, Master Bruce, it's unnecessary…"

I silenced him with a look, not because it was stern but because it was solemn, "Alfred, most of my employees earn a week of paid vacation for every year of service. They generally use them up as they go along so it never amounts to anything."

"I was unaware, sir," he replied, no doubt already knowing what I was about to say.

"You've been here, every year of my life… and you've used what, three, maybe four weeks?"

"Five, sir. When you trained abroad, I took a road trip to the Grand Canyon." The twitch of his thin moustache gave away his deadpan expression.

"I'll tell you what, Alfred, given that it's Christmas… I'll throw in a few extra weeks, round it off at say… fifty-two?" I handed him a beige envelope, "But I'd like you to use it up, the sooner the better."

With steady hands, he opened the envelope and reviewed the contents folded inside. His eyes began to blink rapidly before he gazed up at me, "Master Bruce, this is unacceptable."

"A year's worth of paid vacation… alongside a year's free lease of one of the Gulfstream's. I expect you'll put them to use wisely," I began to walk towards the stairs.

As I passed him, Alfred reached out and touched my arm, his thin fingers strong, "I cannot accept this… Sir, please---."

Shaking my head, "I won't hear it, Alfred. We'll get by. Mattie will make sure we don't starve to death, at least." Even in the dim lighting of the Cave's main floor, his eyes were bright and glassy. "Give Leslie our love."

As his bottom lip began to quake, he focused on returning the check and the lease agreement back in the envelope, folding them crisply as a way to divert his focus. He then stepped forward and wrapped his slender arms around my shoulders. I returned the gesture, listening as he whispered into my ear, "I shall."

Without another word, we made our back up to the Manor. At the second floor, he stepped off, hesitating before looking back at me. "Merry Christmas, Master Bruce."

"You, too, Alfred."

Although I had been tempted to check in on Mattie and Nathan, I did not want to risk waking them. By the time I made it through the master bedroom doors, it was nearly quarter of five. As expected, Selina had domineered a majority of the king sized bed, a feat considering her size. The only part of her that was visible, however, was a few locks of stray black hair as the rest of her form was buried under down comforters. As carefully as possible, I removed my robe and slipped into bed, not wanting to further emblazon my name on the endangered husband list.

I would have succeeded had my icy foot not accidentally touched hers.

Rather than yelping or lashing out at me, Selina slowly turned to face me, doing her best to remain under the covers. Her green eyes were electric as she glared at me in the darkness of the room, suggesting she had not been asleep a moment earlier.

"Sorry, I'll go back downstairs---," I began to rise from the bed but a warm hand found mine, gently grasping it. After settling back down, I turned to face her and gave her a peace offering, "I gave Alfred his gift."

"And?"

"He accepted… after some prodding."

She sighed and moved closer to me, setting her chin on my shoulder as her arm crossed my abdomen, "Good."

After I listened to her breathing for a quiet minute, I finally said, "You were right… it was the necklace." When she didn't respond, I checked to see if she had fallen asleep, "Selina?"

"I heard you, I was just reveling in the fact that you said I was right." Although I felt her lips as they smiled against my bare chest, I found myself frowning. I began to explain how I was intending to speak with J'onn about it but she cut me off, "Shhh… still reveling, my love."

A hint that she wanted a change of subject.

We were quiet again, and as she traced scars on my torso languidly with her fingers I found my mind drifting. Reminiscing, Alfred had called it but I had seen it as researching. After everything that had happened in my life, I had done my best not to dwell on the past but unfortunately there were certain things that I could not let go.

As Selina found the four parallel scratches she had left over my heart a lifetime ago, I muttered, "Series of three."

"Hmm?" she mumbled.

"I was just thinking, how things happen in a series of three."

"Like the six degrees of Kevin Bacon?"

"… No."

"I was kidding, Bruce."

I grunted.

She purred, "Continue."

"There have been three Robins. I've had three successors, including Jean-Pa---."

She interrupted me as she pinched the flesh of my navel, "Also known as he whose name must not be said in my presence."

I paused before saying, "Of course… I… we have three children."

"Do I look old enough to be Dick's mother?"

As tempted as I was to say she may not look old enough but that she was, her nails were a little too close for my left nipple's well being. Instead, I continued, "I was shot three times by Pasqualle… took three days to wake from my coma."

She had no witty remark for that one.

Finally I said, "What's easier to find… but more difficult to face are the things that have only happened twice in my life… and I can't help but wonder…" I fell silent as I felt her shift beside me, propping herself up by one elbow in order to kiss my lips softly. When her lips kissed the faint round scar on my brow, I finished, "… What lies ahead."

^V^


	30. What Lies Ahead: Epilogue

Title: What Lies Ahead: Epilogue

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: He he. He he he. He ha ha he he. Hee ha ha ho ho ho he ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Author's Note: Brown Bear, Brown Bear is quoted from Bill Martin Jr.'s picture book.

^V^

"Brown Bear, Brown Bear, what do you see? I see a red bird looking at me… Red bird, red bird, what do you see? I see a yellow duck looking at me…" I paused as Dick walked into the nursery. After he sat beside me on the floor, I turned the page of the large picture book, careful not to disturb Ethan as he half-slept on my lap.

Before I could continue, Dick read quietly, "Yellow duck, yellow duck what do you see?"

I leaned against his arm slightly and answered, "I see a blue horse looking at me."

We read together, back and forth until we made it to the end of the book. After seeing a green frog, a purple cat, a white dog, a black sheep, a goldfish, a teacher and children, Ethan was asleep. Dick gently took him into his hands, carefully laying him on his back in the crib before wrapping him snugly in his swaddle. By the time he turned around to help me up, I was already back in my wheelchair and quietly making my way for the door.

Once we were both in the hall and the nursery door had been closed three-quarters of the way, Dick pumped his fist in the air, "Seven for seven perfect afternoon naps… we rock the shit out of parenting."

I couldn't help but smile before admitting, "Yes, yes we do."

Having had Ethan as our adopted son for a week, Dick and I had finally settled into a fairly comfortable routine. Mornings unfortunately started at half passed six as Ethan's voice began cooing over the baby monitor. Although we both had less than two hours of sleep after our nocturnal activities, I had decided it was best for Dick to sleep in before having to go into work at the firm.

After changing Ethan's diaper and putting him into fresh clothes, Ethan and I spent the morning together, sharing breakfast and watching half of an hour of Franklin the turtle's misadventures.

Dick generally surfaced from the bedroom around nine-thirty and showered and dressed for the day before coming out to greet us. As he took over watching Ethan, I took half of an hour to shower and change for the day. By then it was ten in the morning and Dick was off to work.

Since he was so young, there was little to do activity wise during the day. We listened to music, I read to him, he played in his hanging bounce chair Dick had installed in the open arch between the den and the main hall and once noon rolled around it was lunch time. After a hearty meal of smashed fruit and rice cereal, he was ready for a nap after another diaper change. With baby monitor at hand, I took the down time to clean up the apartment, catch up on work from the night before and to exercise. Once Ethan was awake, usually around two, we spent the afternoon playing and spending time with one another.

Dick was home by five most nights and was more than eager to take over baby duty so I could catch a nap. We had moved our dinner to later in the evening so that Ethan could eat with us before his nightly bath before bed. Once he was settled in, Dick and I pretended to be a normal couple for thirty minutes by watching whatever sitcom was on before he made his way to the training room before I took to the computers.

The first three nights Ethan had woke around midnight, fussy and miserable as he adjusted to his new routine and surroundings. I put Oracle on hold in order to tend to him in the nursery but after the second night, I decided to bring him in to my cyber fortress. He had been mesmerized by the lights of the monitors and as I gently rocked him in my lap, it took less than fifteen minutes for him to fall back asleep.

When I had told Dick after he had finished patrols that evening, he had said, "Well if you get to show him about what you do…"

I had promptly interrupted, "If I catch him playing with a Batarang, so help me, Richard…"

"A Batarang is dangerous for a baby," he growled jokingly, "I was thinking I'd look out for my son's welfare… start him out with maybe a domino mask. Avoid bolos and gas pellets since they're pretty much choking hazards."

I really loved him.

With it being New Year's Eve, Dick had closed the firm for the day to allow Will to spend more time with his girls and so the he himself could spend time with his own son. And naturally Tim was able to stay home and spend it with Cass and Robbie.

They had been something off about them over the last week. They patrolled opposite sides of the city, rarely worked with one another and had been staying out later than usual. When Cass had dropped by to hang out with Ethan for an afternoon a few days earlier, I had asked if she and Tim had gotten in a fight.

She had shaken her head, "No… why?"

"Oh, no reason."

"Did he say we were in a fight?"

"No, I just… you seem to be avoiding one another."

That night, they had toured the city side by side, taking on evil doers in tandem.

Something was going on…

"So what should we do with this time to ourselves?" Dick leaned in and spoke softly in my ear.

I kissed him before he stood upright, "Sleep."

"Sleep it is!" he called out before looking back to the nursery. He waited a beat and then said much more quietly, "Sleep it is."

We were due at Wayne Manor for dinner around six, which meant we would be testing our fates to see if Ethan would stick to a schedule at a different place. At Christmas, he had done very well considering his entire world had been changed for the second time in his brief life. He had almost made it through dinner before his fuse had burnt down to nothing. We were hoping he would be much better prepared this time around.

Dick led the way to the bedroom, turning the baby monitor on before sitting on the bed. I joined him a moment later after pulling off my slip-on shoes. As he reclined on top of the covers, he patted his chest and I moved over to rest against him.

He took a deep breath before asking, "Do you really think he's leaving?"

I nodded, "Selina said Bruce was pretty adamant about it… And I think Alfred's actually starting to like the idea of some time off."

"But a whole year?"

"I'm sure he'll visit… After all, he does have a personal jet at his disposal."

He muttered, "Wish Santa gave me a jet…"

It hadn't taken long for the word to spread about what Bruce's gift to Alfred had been. With a year's worth of paid vacation, Bruce had all but ordered Alfred out of the Manor and to Leslie's side. Although my initial response should have been excitement for Alfred, I instead found myself growing poignant. Side from Dick and Bruce, Alfred had been the one constant in my life, or rather both of my lives.

To the outsider, Alfred was a graceful gentleman's gentleman, a necessity in the life of a billionaire of Bruce Wayne's stature. But to us, he was an integral part of the Family, the rock we had all turned to in times of need. Had there been no Alfred, it wasn't too far-fetched to deduce that there would have been no Batman. Or if there had been, he wouldn't have lived very long.

And that simple fact would have changed all of us.

Although Bruce and Alfred relationship could be summarized as a father and son, it was far more than that. There were times that they're differences had created a chasm between the two that it was a wonder they even spoke to one another. I couldn't help but think back to when Alfred had quit during Bruce's recovery from being broken by Bane. Rather than stay at his master's side in an obvious time of need, Alfred had left, not wanting to witness anymore self-destruction as a wheelchair bound Bruce toured the world trying to find Tim's father and his doctor, Shondra Kinsolving.

But he came back.

They both had.

Selina had dropped by the day after Christmas to visit and had told us about the gift. I had been unable to hide my shock and when I asked how she had come up with the idea, she smirked, "Actually, it was Bruce's."

Dick had been quick to joke, "He's getting soft in his old age, you ought to whip him into shape… so to speak."

Selina had grinned, "Oh, don't you worry, he gets a good flogging on a nightly basis."

Selina and I then erupted in laughter as Dick blushed before promptly rising to his feet in order to flee the den, "Excuse me, ladies… I think I'm going to go throw up…"

A smile grew on my face thinking of how often my husband found his jokes turning against him, especially when Selina was present. Even though it was a lifetime ago, I couldn't help but think of all the times he had faced her as a teenaged crime fighter whose voice had yet to change. I had no doubt that she had enjoyed harassing him, almost as much as she had taken pleasure from teasing Bruce when he was in the cowl.

Holy Cat Litter.

I was about to ask Dick if he remembered the time we had tried to race each other from one end of the city to the other without using any form of a bat-vehicle when I realized he was fast asleep.

Had we been kids again, I would have stuck something up his nose or drawn on his face.

But since I was a responsible adult, the communication guru for dozens of superheroes and a newfound mother, I simply rolled his upper lip under itself, waiting for his saliva to dry before letting it rest in place.

^V^

"Again."

"… But you're bleeding."

"I didn't ask you for a medical evaluation, Tim, I said for you to do it again."

"All right…"

He had called me the night before, calling me at the Townhouse rather than contacting my on the comm. link. That in itself put me off guard considering I could count the number of times Bruce had socially called me on one hand. I had just come in from a run with Cass and Robbie and I had answered out of breath, "Yeah?"

"… Is this a bad time?" After I explained my fight for air, Bruce continued, "I was wondering if you were free tomorrow afternoon, I'd like to go over a few things with you."

Leaving the location off from his inquiry meant he wanted to meet in the Cave. And although I had certainly developed the highly regarded skill of being able to read Bruce's emotions through his words and actions, I was clueless as to what his intentions were. Naturally, I suspected he had used his inhuman abilities to figure out that I had proposed to Cassandra even though neither one of us had uttered a word to anyone. With that in mind, I had gone to the Cave expecting to be lectured about the risk of taking our relationship to that level while we were still fighting crime.

Instead, Bruce had asked me to hit him.

Not in those words but it had sure sounded like it.

I had been at the computer, reviewing some soot I had taken the night before at a private residence that had been burglarized that had no sign of fire. There had been an arson less than a week earlier surely enough the soot matched the samples from the arson. As I pondered how the two were linked, Bruce had approached with his reflection on the monitor sporting black nomex pants and a frown.

As I stood, he had asked, "I have a task for you, if you're up to it."

I had learned long ago that if he even mentioned he had the slightest desire for your involvement in something, you always replied in the affirmative.

"Sure, anything."

"I'd appreciate if you'd keep this in confidence."

"Loyalty, secrecy, courage, remember?" I smirked, quoting the oath he had made us all take as we had entered his war on crime.

After a frown and a pause, Bruce finally explained, "I want you to test me, on everything I've taught you, right from the beginning."

Nothing to do with Cass and I… but I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. "Can I ask why?"

"I need to know... if you would be able to train someone… if there was a need for it later on."

"As in Mattie?" I smirked again. The glare he shot me caused my cremaster muscle to clench. To smooth things over I quickly offered, "Just joking…" When he visibly relaxed, I looked over my shoulder to the costume vault, "Well, let me change quick, then we can hit the mats."

As I changed into my own nomex training pants, I stretched my legs, arms and back before mentally driving out Tim Drake. When fighting a man who had mastered every form of combat, it was best not to be distracted by the fact that I had left Sims 2 running on the computer at home and would no doubt find my Sim family burning in the streets later that night. When my bare feet stepped onto the cold granite of the main floor, I found myself holding my shoulders higher, clenching my hands tighter and breathing deeper.

There was no Tim Drake.

Bruce was in the training bay, shadow boxing an imaginary foe while facing away from me. Although I had my own collection of scars, the latest and most garish courtesy of Victor Zsasz, Bruce had four times as many. Looking over his back, I could only find six patches of flesh more than two inches square that weren't marked.

I suddenly wondered if I would look the same after another fifteen years of crime fighting.

Just as I planted my first foot on the mat, I expected Bruce to stop and turn to face me. Instead, he continued, throwing jabs and blows to the air that would send a human to the emergency room. For some reason, I had always thought that after he had stepped down that he wouldn't maintain his physique. It wasn't that I expected him to grow a beer belly, more like he would have trimmed down the massive form he had developed, the perfect balance of strength and speed.

He had slimmed down a bit, barely noticeable to the casual observer. But I knew his body almost as well as my own. As Robin he had seemed enormous, and even still as a grown man his six-two frame was intimidating, even if it only carried one-ninety five rather than his former two hundred and ten pounds.

I smirked to myself, thinking he probably didn't want have to suffer through getting all of his suits retailored.

"So, where do you want to start? Sparring, sword fighting, spelunking sans flashlights?"

Bruce finally turned to face me, an off look on his face. Before I could say anything, he replied, "You left out Savate."

"Ah yes," I carefully began to circle him to the left in order to position myself in the center of the mats, "How could I forget the fighting of French feet." Dick would have been proud of my alliteration. "All right, let's see a fouetté," I had my hands up, ready to strike down on the roundhouse-like kick, which made contact with the instep.

The last time I had truly sparred with Bruce, not including our impromptu bo staff beatings two years previous, had been four weeks before he had stepped down. He had left me with more bruises than I usually suffered in a month. Nothing different from any other time I had faced him in my training, but what had been different had been that he had let me call the shots. At the time, I had thought he was testing me to make sure I was keeping on top of my skills but had I known he was getting ready to hand me the cowl…

Bruce's right leg was like a whip, aiming for my head. After I deflected it, he then went for my kidneys and once I had struck aside his ankle, he headed for my calves. Without a word, he switched to the left leg, this time the kicks coming slower, more exact in their aim and delivery.

From there we had worked through the three remaining kicking styles of Savate: the chasse which were front kicks, revers which involved lateral reverse hook kicks and the coup de pied bas which were only directed to the lower legs, sort of like a sweeping kick. After that we went through the various punches before turning them into combinations.

After twenty minutes of review, Bruce's blows were no longer coming at me with the purpose of practice but rather the purpose of injuring. My blocks came quicker but it wasn't long before I found myself going beyond the defense and into offense. Following a particularly nasty direct bras avant strike that hit me in just below my ribcage, I finally growled, "That's it," before throwing the exact same jab to Bruce.

"You can't attack in anger," he replied calmly before attempting to kick me in the thigh.

I defended the blow and retaliated with a hook, uppercut and front kick combination that he barely avoided, "I thought I was teaching you."

"So did I."

It was then I saw it, the little spark in his eye that was almost an urban legend because of its rarity.

Bruce was having fun.

When I had first become Robin I had given it my all any time I fought him, doing whatever I could to impress him with my growing athleticism and skill. But no matter how well I did, he always showed me that I wasn't good enough in one way or another. Eventually I learned that it wasn't to insult me or discourage me, it was to feed my desire to better myself. And after all the years that had passed, I still wouldn't consider myself his equal.

But I was pretty damn close.

The mild mock combat quickly evolved into a full-on spar, strikes and kicks coming at lightning speed, aiming for vital organs and sensitive areas. He took the lead, hitting me in the left kidney before jabbing me in the right one. As he pulled back his hands, however, I took the opening he had left to knee him in the belly.

Every blow I delivered, I asked a question, starting with, "Why are we doing this?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does," my uppercut barely caught his lower jaw as he evaded me.

He spun slightly and threw a side kick that drove his heel into the side of my knee, "It shouldn't matter."

I recoiled before going back to the offensive, "It does."

"Why?" he asked with a grunt as he attempted another side kick, that time aiming for my head.

I caught his foot in one hand and instead of shoving it away, I wrenched it upwards, pulling him off balance, "Because I said it matters."

Just as I was about to strike him with my free hand, I heard a soft voice, "Can I have winner?"

Bruce and I both looked to see Mattie standing less than ten feet away at the edge of the mats. I instantly let his leg go and we both did our best to assume casual stances as she approached. Bruce said, "Mattie, I thought we decided you weren't to come down here unless you had permission."

She looked up at him, fighting a grin, "I do have permission. Mom said for me to come down to tell you to stop fooling around and get upstairs to help Alfred move his luggage into the car." Without waiting for a reply from her father, she took a few running steps and leapt in the air, kicking her leg out at me. Unlike her father who had attempted a similar maneuver a moment earlier, she had succeeded although she had ended up only being able to reach the middle of my chest where he had aimed for my neck.

Out of sheer shock, I had lost my balance and taken a step back, of which she had dropped to the ground to kick my feet out from under me. A moment later, I was on my back staring up at bats sleeping in the ceiling of the cave. Then Mattie's face appeared as she stood above me, "And she told me to tell you to stop enabling him."

After she left, Bruce offered me a hand up and once I was on my feet, I looked over to him, "Joking aside, I hope I never have to train her… because she'll never let me forget that."

^V^

"Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Dick."

"… I don't want you to go."

Although Alfred didn't so much as glance away from the onions he had caramelizing before him, I found his voice a fraction softer when he replied, "Master Dick, I believe you once told me that every bird needs to spread its wings."

"But… can't you spread your wings… in Florida or something?"

His left eyebrow twitched slightly before he asked, "Are you suggesting that because of my age that I would find pleasure in the twenty-seventh state of---."

I shook my head as I stood from leaning against the counter, "No-no-no... I would never… I mean, it is nice there but not just for, you know old people."

Finally, Alfred looked over, "Master Dick… are you crying, sir?"

I turned away and wiped at my eyes, "Onions, Al... my Achilles heel."

During the week that had lapsed between Christmas and New Year's, I had been consumed with my new role as a father and had been unable to make it up to the Manor to see Alfred. And after having him in my life since I wore Transformers socks, I felt guilty for not making the time to properly say good bye to him. I had convinced myself there would be plenty of time later in the week but when I found it was New Year's Eve, it finally sank in.

When everyone was ringing in the new year, he would be on his way to Africa.

And it really hit home when we arrived at Wayne Manor to see Bruce and Tim carrying out brown leather luggage to one of the town cars.

Upon first walking into the kitchen, Alfred had greeted me as it had been any normal Family dinner. He had even gone as far as asking me to taste test pork tenderloin and blue cheese puffed pastries. For the first time in my life, my stomach churned at the thought of eating Alfred's fine cuisine. Although Alfred had rejected my offers to help cook, I stayed with him, sitting at the island counter watching him at work. As his masterful hands deftly worked on dicing red onions and pancetta for an asparagus salad, we talked about Ethan and how he was fairing in his new home. As he checked on the wild mushroom strudels, the conversation had switched to my work and how things were progressing with the firm.

When he turned his attention to caramelizing onions and searing Atlantic salmon, I finally gave in.

"Well, Master Dick, I would do my best to keep that particular fact secret from those who desire to know your weaknesses."

I smirked and replied, "Oh, Babs already knows."

After removing the onions from the heat, Alfred glanced over at me briefly but as he was about to speak, Mattie walked into the kitchen, "Are you sure I can't help, Alfred?"

When she spotted me, I informed her, "He turned me down, too… The man is on a mission."

Alfred cleared his throat as he returned to the stove to carefully flip the salmon steaks, "It is my responsibility to prepare meals for this family and as my final evening before my sabbatical, I shall see to it that I carry out my duty to its fullest potential."

"Does that include Turtle Cheesecake?" Mattie asked hopefully.

He glanced quickly at the refrigerator before returning his gaze to the stove top. When I began to walk over to investigate, Alfred spoke quietly, "Richard."

Mattie smirked and said, "Busted," before about facing and heading back into the hall.

Alone again, I found the brief moment of humor ebbing. On the ride up, Barbara had made one last effort to show me the bright side of Alfred leaving but it hadn't taken. I understood that he and Leslie loved each other and that having an entire ocean between them was agonizing. I also knew that Alfred had literally sacrificed his entire life to stand at Bruce's side and to tend to those who also chose to join his war.

What I didn't know was how we were going to carry on without him.

When I had admitted as much to Barbara, just before we made the turn up the drive to Wayne Manor, she had said, "He's coming back."

I had paused before saying, "In a year… A lot can happen in a year."

We had remained silent for the remainder of the drive and just as I parked in front of the garage beside Tim's Honda, she said, "After all Alfred's done for us… for you… he needs this. Just promise me you'll---."

I cut her off, "Don't worry, I'll behave… besides, Bruce is the official party pooper of the Family, not me."

Thinking of that, I suddenly asked Alfred, "So, you going to get Bruce some sort of perimeter bracelet, make sure he stays out of the kitchen while you're gone?"

A smirk grew on the old man's face, "Miss Mattie will be the acting warden in my absence… Let us hope she is as lenient as I have been."

"Yeah, she's is getting pretty bold, isn't she? Question is will she be more like Bruce or Selina?" When he looked over his shoulder at me, brow raised in surprise, I explained, "Well, will she be broody and bat-like or will she be sassy and cat-like… that's what I meant, not you know.. crime-wise."

As he returned to the salmon, he replied, "As with many of her characteristics, I feel it is more or less a uniting of the two."

"Dangerous combination." When he didn't respond, I changed the subject, "So Barbara said Bruce hooked you up with a satellite-phone?"

After a curt nod, Alfred removed the salmon from the stove and arranged the thin steaks on a bed of butter head lettuce, "As well as a number of other gadgets… But the mail comes twice a week to the camp so barring any emergency I'll be corresponding in long hand."

"Oh, come on, Al… I'm sure we can come up with a cool e-mail address and screen name for you…"

"Miss Mattie needs to work on her cursive and Master Nathan can use it to practice his handwriting." He carefully poured the caramelized onions over the salmon before looking over at me, "And when was the last time you hand wrote a letter, sir?"

"All right, all right… My cursive's rusty, too I guess. Still think about it… Pennyworth_007… it's awful catchy. And texting is cost effective, better for the environment---."

"Rubbish."

Although he had disregarded my offers to help prepare the meal, he had been gracious when I offered to carry the platters out to the dining room for him. As he tidied up the kitchen and washed up himself, I went, as ordered, to the den to tell everyone dinner was ready. As I passed through the high archway, I found Bruce laying on the floor with Ethan and Nathan both sitting on his chest. Mattie knelt beside her fallen father, counting out loud before declaring victory to the boys.

As Nathan leapt to his feet and began a victory lap around the room, Bruce held onto Ethan's hips in order to keep the young boy sitting upright. As he began to sit up himself, Ethan reached out and latched onto Bruce's shirt collar before rocking back and forth in Bruce's lap. When Bruce smiled down at him, Ethan grinned back before looking away.

"Bashful, are we?" Bruce asked softly, "Wasn't the case a few minutes ago when you were pulling my hair…"

"Yeah, he pulled a chunk out of Dick's head the other day… That's why he got his hair cut," Barbara said before she suddenly spotted me in the room, "Hey, get lost?"

"No, I was acting taste tester," I defended.

Bruce rose and handed Ethan to his mother before pulling the dark sleeves of his sweater down. Unfortunately he hadn't done it quickly enough to prevent me from seeing several angry bruises on his forearms. I glanced around the room quickly to see Nathan had taken his running into the hall before pointing to my own arm, "Ouch."

"You should see the other guy," Bruce smirked before standing beside his wife on the couch.

I glanced over at Tim and even though he had done a fair job of hiding them with concealer, I still could see the mottling of bruises on the side of his neck and his right cheek. "Wait, you beat the crap out of each other… and didn't invite me?"

Before either could answer, Barbara spoke "Oh please, you had zero ambition this afternoon…"

After a shrug, I replied, "True… but next time we can tag team him… make it a fair fight."

Mattie, who was still kneeling on the floor, asked, "What about me?"

Before taking things any further, Alfred appeared at the doorway, dressed in a clean pair of dark slacks and a pale blue collared shirt under a navy sweater, "Why is it, Master Dick, that Master Nathan is the only one seated in the dining room?"

Mattie jumped to her feet and walked towards me before saying, "Busted."

Ethan was a trooper during dinner, sitting in the high chair that had once been Nathan's throne of terror. Rather than getting fussy as the meal progressed, he grew sleepy and just before Alfred revealed the Turtle cheesecake for dessert; I glanced over to see the little guy was fast asleep. I began to rise but Alfred beat me to it, "Allow me, sir." Just in case he ended up falling asleep early, we had brought up his reclining bouncer chair and set it up in the den. As Alfred deftly picked Ethan up out of his high chair, his little body didn't so much as move.

Although we generally stayed New Year's until the bat-signal went off, drawing us to the city, Barbara and I had decided to head home to get him settled in for the night. After saying good bye to Bruce and Selina and after kissing Mattie before picking Nathan up and hugging him upside down, I finally found myself face to face with Alfred.

Although my emotions were still running haywire and I wanted nothing more but to kidnap him and lock him in the Clocktower forever and ever, I found myself simply giving him a hug and saying, "Happy new year, Al."

"Happy new year, to you, sir," he returned the gesture and when I pulled away, I noticed his eyes were slightly glassed over. Before I could ask if he was all right, he smiled, "Onions, sir."

^V^

After Dick, Barbara and Ethan left after dinner, I ran upstairs to change and get ready to go the New Year's Eve party at Piper's house. When I had first asked him if I could go, Dad had been reluctant but Mom had said that it was either I go to a party or they host another one. After that he had said, "I'm sure you'll have fun at Piper's, kitten."

Even though I dressed nicely for dinner, I wanted to wear something different for the party. After all, it was my first major middle school party. Having already picked out my outfit, it didn't take long to change out of the clothes I was wearing and into a pair of dark stone washed jeans and teal fitted tee under a navy blue corduroy jacket that ended just passed my hips. After I pulled a pair of tan suede slip ons Mom had gotten me for Christmas, I ran into the bathroom and ran a brush through my hair quick before touching up my makeup.

Once I had grabbed my little tan corduroy purse, I headed back downstairs. Mom had told me she would be helping Alfred pick up which left Dad and Nathan in the den with Tim and Cass. Not wanting Dad to take me to the party, I opted for the kitchen. When I walked in, it looked like Mom and Alfred had just finished washing dishes. I smiled, "How do I look?"

"Wonderful," Alfred nodded as he dried his hands.

"And four years older…" Mom shook her head as she made her way out of the kitchen, "Well, why don't you say good bye, I have to go get my coat and purse."

"Okay…" I looked over at Alfred, surprised to see he was still looking at me. "I guess this is it."

"Afraid so, my dear… But I feel you are more than ready," he replied as he folded the towel and carefully arranged it on the small wrought iron rack beneath the sink.

Since he told me he was going to be with Leslie for a year, I had done my best to prepare for taking over the kitchen for him. He had taken care of arranging someone to clean the Manor, a really nice gray-haired lady named Annette, but had wanted to delegate the cooking to me. Although I was pretty much a chef already, Alfred had gone as far as teaching me the finer skills, like selecting fruit and vegetables at the market in Bristol.

Even still, I wasn't ready for him to go.

Over the week, as I helped him dress unused rooms with dust sheets, we had discussed just about everything. For the most part we talked about what he was going to do while he was away and what my plans and goals were for the year. As we tidied up and draped sheets on the furniture in a room I had never been in, one Alfred called the Morning Room, I asked, "Do you think I'd make a good superhero?"

He had paused and I could see he was visibly surprised. After he resumed covering a large painting that hung beside the far wall, he had posed his own question, "Well, do you want to be a good superhero?"

I had shaken my head, "I want to be the greatest."

After getting off of the step stool he had been on, Alfred approached the one leather sofa we had yet to drape. After patting the seat beside him, I walked over and carefully sat down as he asked, "And what traits, might I ask, would the greatest superhero have?"

I took a moment to think of the things that reminded me of Dad before replying, "Courage. Intelligence. Confidence.… Stubbornness… I'm not too stubborn yet but I'm sure I'll get there."

"I am certain you will, my dear… Now, aside from having such admirable qualities, what else would one need on a quest to become the greatest?"

After another quiet minute passed, I looked up at him, "A reason."

"Pardon?"

"A reason… a reason to be a hero. Dad had a reason, so did Dick and Tim…" I thought back to when Dad had showed me a set of video recordings last spring, "And Cassandra."

"And what is your reason?"

I had shrugged, "Exactly… I don't have one."

He had wrapped his slender arm around my shoulders, "And let's pray you never do."

As he stood before me in the kitchen, I took a deep breath before walking over, wrapping my arms around his back. Thankfully, I didn't have any eye makeup on yet since my eyes suddenly grew wet as he rubbed my back, "There, there, Miss Mattie. It's all right."

I pressed my face into his chest after saying, "I'm going to miss you, Alfred."

"And I shall miss you, my dear…"

I pulled back suddenly, "I'm going to write every week, I promise. Nathan will, too."

"I look forward to it already." After hugging him one more time, he leaned over and kissed the top of my head, "Do enjoy yourself tonight, Miss Mattie."

"I'll try," I wiped my eyes as I stood back, drawing a ragged breath.

Mom returned a moment later with my overnight bag in her hand, "Ready?"

After a quick nod, I stepped out of the kitchen, glancing back at Alfred once more, wondering how much he would change in a year. Then again he hadn't changed at all in my whole life…

Before we pulled out of the garage in the Jaguar, which Mom drove more than Dad did, Mom let me touch up my makeup again in the visor mirror. When I looked at her, she leaned forward and kissed my cheek, "Beautiful."

The ride to Piper's was less than fifteen minutes but it seemed to last seconds and we pulled into the spacious driveway at ten after eight. After she parked the car, Mom said, "Your father would say for you to behave yourself and don't do anything you wouldn't do in front of him… but he should have said it to you for himself because all I have to say is… have fun, kiddo."

"Thanks, Mom," I grabbed my bag and stepped out of the car. As a second though, I leaned back in and kissed her cheek, "And happy New Year!"

I ran up the stone pathway from the drive up to the front door. Without knocking, I entered the main atrium of Piper's house, smiling to hear laughter and loud music in the den. After dropping my bag off amidst several others along the wall, I undid my coat and followed the sound of fun.

Before I had even set foot in the den, I heard Piper's shrill cry above the noise, "About time!!! We've been waiting forever for you."

I glanced at my watch and saw I was exactly fifteen minutes late, "Sorry, I had dinner with my family." As I looked around the spacious room, I saw nearly twenty of my classmates and at least ten others that were in the grade above us. Naturally Piper had seen to it that there were equal numbers between boys and girls. There were a number of girls huddled in the back by the food that was set out, giggling and pointing to the other attendees. I also spotted another group of girls, trying to dance by the massive stereo system while a group of older boys were playing football on the XBOX.

After I commented on Piper's hair, of which she had cut and dyed strawberry blonde just for the party, I made my way over to a group of six boys that were playing cards on the floor by couches that sat several female spectators. It took only a moment to realize they were playing Hold'em, something they had become obsessed with during study hall. Rather than bet with significant money, they often gambled with coins and school supplies. Tonight, rather than pens and pennies, they had substituted miniature candy bars and crackers with cheese. After the next hand was won by Adam, Piper's love interest since like second grade, the hostess had declared, "All, right, my parents just went next door until midnight…"

There were a few cheers before someone called out, "Suck and blow!" followed by cries of approval.

Piper then directed everyone who wanted to play to sit in a circle in the middle of the room, boy girl, boy girl. As I sat next to Mark, he elbowed me and said, "Hope you brushed your teeth."

I laughed back at him and replied, "Nope, and I had extra onions tonight so get psyched."

Over the thirty or so present, only a dozen had chosen to sit in the circle. As I glanced at those who were standing by, I saw Terry smiling at me. When I patted the empty spot to my right, he shook his head but kept smirking. A moment later, Darren, a seventh grader, sat beside me introducing himself even though we had gym class together. Piper picked up a discarded Joker card from the poker game before sitting in between Adam and Mike.

She pressed the card to her lips before sucking in air to keep it on her face before leaning over and pressing the card to Mike's lips. As he took in air to hold it, he then turned and pressed the card to Andrea's lips and so on. It made six more exchanges before coming to me and after I successfully passed it on to Marc it continued to two more people before a boy named Ray dropped it and ended up kissing Katarina.

After another twenty minutes of Suck and Blow, of which I successfully transferred the card in each direction, Piper suggested we move on to Seven Minutes in Heaven. Although we had played Suck and Blow and Spin the Bottle before at parties, I hadn't played Heaven yet and wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. A few more joined the circle while Piper went to get a glass bottle from the kitchen. Just as she returned, Terry sat down across from me and said, "Hope you brought your game, Wayne."

"Oh, it is so on," I laughed back at him.

Piper put the empty Coke bottle in the middle of the circle and spun it, crossing her fingers as she knelt back down. Whatever silent prayer she made, it was answered as the bottle slowly stopped to point at Adam. She jumped to her feet and did her best to contain her excitement with a quiet giggle rather than the scream I knew was within her.

As they made their way to the coat closet, I took the chance to get up and check out the food. After getting a cup of orange soda and a plate of little turkey sandwiches and cheese stuffed croissants, I returned to the circle. Marc instantly reached over to steal a sandwich, a habit he had started back at the zoo trip. Instead of punching him, I pulled the plate away, "Your legs aren't broken, go over and get your own."

"You're so mean," he smirked as he rose to his feet.

When Piper and Adam returned, they were both wearing smudged pale pink lipstick. As the regulated "Oooo's" and "Ahhhh's" sounded, Piper sat back down and handed me the bottle, "Good luck."

I took a deep breath before looking around the circle, locking in on my target. I began to spin the bottle before it even landed on the hardwood floor. It proceeded to spin, near out of control, before finally slowing to a stop, pointing directly at who I had looked at before setting it down. A few people clapped and Angie had even gone as far as saying, "About time!"

Once I was on my feet, I looked over at my partner, "Shall we?"

Terry nodded as the color drained from his face.

Piper had left the light on in the closet and after we shut the doors, Terry spoke, "This is stupid."

"Totally, I bet Piper didn't even kiss Adam, made him put some lipstick on just to make it look like it."

A minute into Heaven, I sat down cross legged and Terry joined me amongst the shoes. "So, Alfred's leaving tonight?" he asked.

I nodded, "Yeah… I can't believe tomorrow morning he's just... going to be gone. I mean I know he's coming back but still."

Terry agreed, "Yeah, but you know, everyone needs time to themselves."

We proceeded to talk about plans for the next day and were quick to agree that we both wanted to see the new comedy with Vince Vaughn even though it sounded dumb. With two minutes left, Terry smirked at me, "Did you really eat extra onions at dinner?"

"Nah, and besides I brushed my teeth like three times toda---."

I was interrupted as a pair of lips pressed gently against mine. When Terry pulled back, he began to apologize, "Sorry… I…"

Before I would let him regret his bold move, I smiled, "Why'd you stop, there's still two minutes left…"

^V^

There was a soft knock on the door leading to my quarters and when I directed my gaze from packing an overnight bag, I smiled to see Master Nathan dressed in tiger striped cotton pajamas. I bid him to enter and he did, slowly walking towards me, "Alfie?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you w-ead to me?"

I had suspected that there had been some encouragement from his parents to propose the question, but nevertheless, I obliged, "I will do one better, young master. I will tell you the greatest story ever told."

The young boy's blue eyes lit up before his smile began to match them. Without another word he spun around and dashed into the hallway before yelling, "Alf-wed's going to w-ead to me, Mommy!"

When he glanced back at me, I nodded, "I shall meet you in your bedroom, Master Nathan."

"Okay," he said, barely able to contain his excitement as he ran off.

After speaking with Master Dick earlier in the evening, I mused that the young children were taking my leave of absence far better than the elder. Ms. Barbara, Master Timothy and Miss Cassandra had wished me well before leaving for the night, asking only that I enjoy myself and perhaps send a few postcards. Miss Mattie, although through teary eyes, had also been happy for me to go and her younger brother knew I was leaving but was still too young to understand how long a year really was. And their mother had all but ordered me to leave ever since Leslie had departed…

It was Master Bruce that I feared leaving behind.

Although he was in the capable hands of his wife and children, I was still coming to terms that for the first time, I was voluntarily leaving him behind without there being unrest between us. When he had taken to gallivanting the globe rather than to recover from his horrific injuries dealt to him by Bane, I had promptly left Master Bruce's employ as I was unwilling to see him further risk his life. Even as I had aided Master Tim during his time at Brentwood, my relationship with Master Bruce had been under considerable strain.

But at the moment, we had never been closer.

For the first time, he was truly happy and I made no secret that a large portion was due to the fact that he was no longer Batman. Although he denied it, it was the only constant that had changed as he had still been irritable and irate after he had taken Ms. Selina as his wife and had fathered his first child. With the Dark Knight removed from the equation, he was able to embrace a life he had never dreamed of having.

The life his parents had dreamed of for him.

As well as I.

After securing the zipper of the long neglected leather travel bag, I donned a pair of loafers before making my way to the main stairwell. Although I had taken to using the elevator of late, it was difficult to pass up an opportunity to travel up the magnificent staircase once more. Master Nathan had done his best to tuck himself in and as I sat beside him on the bed, he asked, "Whe-eh's the book?"

"The greatest story ever told is one that has never been written in its entirety because the story is not over." He sat up against his pillows and looked up at me as I began, "Once upon a time, there were a king and queen that lived in a grand castle overlooking their kingdom. The king and queen were very kind people and most generous to those in need. In fact, rather than act solely as a ruler, the king chose to study and become a physician in order to better help the people of his kingdom."

"A fizz…"

"A doctor of sorts. The queen also did her part to help the kingdom by collecting money and donations for the less fortunate. Since she and the king were very wealthy, she felt it was their duty to give back to the kingdom that looked up to them for guidance. One day, not long after the king and queen were married, they had a son…"

"A p-wince," Master Nathan declared proudly.

"Indeed, a young prince. He had dark hair and bright blue eyes and he was a very smart boy, and very energetic… much like yourself, Master Nathan."

"Like me," he grinned up at me. His gaze then shifted to the door and when I looked as well, I spotted Master Bruce and Ms. Selina standing by. "Mommy, Daddy, Alf-wed's telling me a stoh-y. The g-weatest stoh-y."

"The greatest story," Selina replied, "Well, we can't pass that up, can we, Bruce?"

Once they had taken a seat on either side at the end of the bed, Master Nathan encouraged me to continue. After looking into Master Bruce's eyes, I continued, "The young prince loved his parents very much… in fact they were the most important things in his entire life. The king and queen loved their son as well and their lives were far better now that he was with them. One day… the king and queen celebrated the young prince's birthday not with an extravagant ball or feast but by visiting the theatre in the kingdom. Following the performance, the royal family made their way through the streets of the kingdom back to the horses and coach that had brought them down from the castle."

Ms. Selina reached over and took her husband's hand into her own.

"Unfortunately, the kingdom was not entirely made of good people… there were still criminals and thieves lurking about the streets, willing to do anything to steal gold and fine jewels. And unfortunately, one of these criminals came upon the royal family."

"What happened?" the young child asked as his hand touched my arm.

"The criminal did not recognize the king and queen and the young prince… and demanded they give him their gold and jewels. Now even though the king did as he was told, the criminal went to pull at a pearl necklace that was around the queen's neck. In order to protect his wife, the king dove in front of her, frightening the criminal so much that he… killed the good king. In a state of panic, he then proceeded to kill the queen."

"What about the p-wince?"

"As the criminal realized what he had done, he fled the street, leaving the young prince alone… with his parents at his feet. The prince's world had been forever shattered as those he loved most were now gone…"

When I looked to Master Bruce once more, he nodded.

"The young prince returned to the castle, no longer the bright, happy boy but a sad, quiet one. His loyal servant, who had looked over him since he had been born, was certain there was no way to comfort the young prince but he did his best. The young prince then made a promise to his late parents… that he would make sure that no other child, no matter if they were royalty or simple townsfolk, would ever have to suffer as he had."

"What did he do?" Master Nathan asked before yawning.

"Upon completing his studies, he travelled the world, leaving behind the castle and kingdom he had lived in his entire life. There he began a different sort of education… he began to master all forms of fighting and defense… science and math… language and arts… the young prince sought out every master of every skill that may help him in his quest to defend the people of his kingdom. After seven long years, the young prince returned to the kingdom, but not as a boy as he was now a man grown."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ms. Selina leaning against Master Bruce's arm. I then continued, "The prince knew he would not be able to become a city knight, not only because he was royalty but because he also knew that the criminals did not fear the city knights. No, the prince needed to strike fear into the hearts of criminals, in order to assure that he would be able to keep his promise to his parents.

"So he became a dark knight. Rather than touring the streets by daylight, he prowled them at night, as did most of the criminals. By day, however, the prince upheld his royal duties, ruling his kingdom in his father's place. But as night fell, he removed his brightly colored cloaks and dressed in black armor and a cape to help conceal him in the shadows. The dark knight used his perfected skills work in order to hunt down the criminals that dared to strike out at his kingdom.

"However, it wasn't long before the dark knight became consumed by his quest, allowing the darkness of his life to overpower the light. Just as it seemed there was nothing left of the prince, he came upon another young boy, much like himself, who had lost his parents. The boy had been part of the traveling carnival and he and his parents had been the acrobatic act, flying high on the trapeze. A criminal had unfortunately cut through the trapeze swing in order to threaten the carnival's owner and when the young boys parents went to perform, the rope snapped and they fell."

"What happened to the boy, Alfred?" Selina asked, still leaning against her husband as she pointed at her son.

I looked down to see he had slipped down against the pillows, fighting slumber with all his might. "After seeing how very similar his life had been to the boy from the carnival, the prince took the boy to live with him as his ward. It wasn't long after that the prince allowed the boy to know of his true life, the life as a dark knight… It was then that the prince began to teach the boy all which he had learned in his travels, in order to prepare the boy to join his war on crime."

When I glanced down again, the boy's eyes had fallen heavily and his breaths came long and slow. After adjusting the covers, I rose from the bed and kissed his brow, "To be continued, young sir."

Once the three of us had made it silently into the corridor, Master Bruce shut the door behind him, "Thank you, Alfred."

"It was my pleasure, sir. I do hope you will be able to continue with the adventures of the prince and the young boy."

He nodded, allowing himself to smirk, "I hope I can remember it all."

Ms. Selina stepped forward suddenly, wrapping her arm about me, "Behave yourself, old man."

"I will do my best."

When she released me, she turned to Mater Bruce and nodded before making her way down the corridor to their chambers. As we stepped off on the second floor, he asked, "Was there anything else to go down?"

"Nothing that I can't manage on my own, sir."

He continued after me as I entered my quarters to perform one last tour of the various rooms. When I had convinced myself that all was packed, I returned to the sitting area with my coat, hat and leather bag in hand. Master Bruce, who had been standing at the doorway whilst following me with his eyes nodded towards my desk. I looked to see my massive leather bound journal in the center of it.

As he went to retrieve it, I shook my head, "I'm leaving it. To be completed upon my return."

"Are you sure?" he asked with doubt, knowing the importance of my daily ritual.

I nodded, "Miss Mattie has provided me with an interim journal to write in while I am away."

"And you're just leaving this one behind?"

"Well, it may need a reading or two, pages turned, keep the covers supple…"

A true smile broke his face as he realized my hidden intentions. With the discovery that he had lost several of his memories to the radiation therapies, he had been wrought with worry that he had not only forgotten parts of his life as Batman but also his life as Bruce Wayne. More importantly the life he had briefly led in the company of his parents. Seeing as how I had written my observations on the pages of my journal since the beginning of his life, I was fairly certain he would be able to fill in the pieces.

Peace of mind, at the very least for himself.

As well as for myself.

^V^

An unexpected snow shower had city drivers in a near panic and the forty-five minute drive to the airport had taken nearly an hour and a half. With the backseat and trunk containing Alfred's luggage, I had been forced to sit in the passenger seat as Alfred navigated the highway with a natural ease. I had known better than to offer to drive him into the city, simply out of self preservation.

Upon finally arriving at the airport, we pulled through the secure entrance behind the parking garage in order to pull onto the private air strip. With twenty minutes to spare before his scheduled take off, Alfred and his belongings were aboard the Wayne Gulfstream IV, already clean across the boards for the pre-flight checks. I had offered to have a Wayne pilot to at least get him to Africa but Alfred had insisted on doing it himself.

As he always had.

Earlier in the week, when we had been planning his departure, Selina had wanted to tag along but as the day approached, she realized that it would be best if Alfred and I were able to part ways without an audience. Or rather in her words, "Hate for anyone to witness that you actually have a heart in this big hairy chest of yours."

Unfortunately, the dramatic scene that she and everyone else had predicted never took place. Once Alfred was ready to navigate the plan for takeoff, he had embraced me lightly before saying, "Good bye, Master Bruce."

"Alfred… take care of her."

"The plane?"

"I meant Leslie."

He had smirked at that and donned his radio headphones before taking the pilot's seat.

After returning to the car, I waited until the Gulfstream had successfully taken flight before disappearing into the cloudy sky. After turning the key and navigating back to the highway, I allowed myself a sigh.

Just as I began to muse about the changes that had taken place in the Family over the last few months and even years, I saw of flash of light slicing through the city skyline. The signal. Instinct took hold of me and I reached for the cell phone in my pocket, dialing it without looking. I was just about to complete the call by hitting the "send" button but instead, I flipped the phone closed and set it in the empty seat beside me.

I had just managed to merge onto St. James North when the phone came to life. I picked up after the second ring without looking at the Caller ID, "Yes?"

"How'd it go?" Selina asked.

"Good… he'll be having a layover in Brussels tonight before heading south."

"How long will it take to get to Brussels?"

"Six and a half hours, give or take," I glanced at the dash to see it was half passed eleven, "Actually, with the time difference, he'll be there in time for lunch."

"A feast of Belgian chocolates…" she replied before asking, "So what's up, I see Gotham's celebrating in its usual style."

"Excuse me?" I countered as a Maserati nearly took me out as it slid in the quarter inch of snow.

"The signal."

I looked in the rear view mirror to see the beam of light was still piercing the night sky, "I don't know… but I'm sure they can handle it."

The amusement in her voice was hard to miss, "You're not even curious?"

"If I'm not mistaken, curiosity is in your department."

She waited a beat before purring, "Meow." Another moment passed before she asked, "So, Mattie called a little while ago."

"And?"

"Everything's fine, she just wanted to wish us happy New Year before the kids went insane at the party. You know, with the midnight beer bongs and infinite lines of cocaine…"

I sighed, "It's not funny, Selina, Piper is already a bad influence on her with her wardrobe alone and I know her parents don't supervise the parties she hosts, at least not---."

"As well as you would? Might I bring up the fact that the party you supervised left Tim as a snow man in the back yard and Krypton's last son in a catatonic state?"

"… That was different."

She changed the subject abruptly, "Are you going to make it back by midnight?"

"Hopefully…" I grunted, with little hope in my voice.

"Easy there, stud, your optimism is overwhelming me," she laughed, "Well I hope you do because I had an awfully good idea on how we could celebrate."

"Oh really?" I asked as I finally made it off St. James in order to take the scenic albeit less driven route back to Wayne Manor, "Care to elaborate?"

Selina paused before answering, "Well, you have twenty-eight minutes to find out," before hanging up on me. I could have easily made it home in twenty minutes but I took my time, leaving just over three minutes until midnight struck when I came up the drive. Leaving the car in front of the garage, I entered the manor through the service entrance before jogging to the stairs. As I made it to the third floor, my watch gave me forty-three seconds.

As I approached the master bedroom, I smiled as I heard Selina's voice mutter, "Jackass… better hurry or he'll be moving into Alfred's room…"

I opened the door with ten seconds to spare, counting each one down as I took a step towards her. When I had left earlier that evening, she had been dressed in a black skirt and a white low cut blouse under a fitted purple sweater. Obviously, she had opted to change in order to spend the remainder of the evening in comfort as she had traded her outfit for a black sheer lace slip.

When I reached three, I was at the bed, already kneeling on it as I leaned in towards her, "Two, one…"

She kissed my lips softly, "Your watch is fifteen seconds fast, my love…"

With a sigh, I sat down and began to recline on the bed, "Well, I tried… good night, Selina."

"Good night, Bruce," she replied as she began to lie next to me.

Often when we feigned disinterest in one another, Selina managed to hold out longer than I. Although I had intended on overcoming self-control, every breath I drew was laced with her perfume. Out of the corner of my eye, I was able to see her lying still, the garment doing little to conceal the body I had memorized every inch of long ago.

Damnit.

Without warning, I suddenly rolled over and went about lying on top of her, supporting myself by my elbows and knees, my lips finding her neck with a mind of their own. She laughed as she ran a hand through my hair, "You held out a whole minute… Impressive."

"I'll show you impressive," I growled into her neck.

Later, with my clothes scattered on the floor and her slip somewhere amidst the rumpled blankets and pillows, Selina admitted between heavy breaths "You know what that reminded me of? Our first time… At the penthouse… "

While mentally taking my pulse, I nodded, "Now that was impressive…" before I could continue, the phone rang on the bedside table. I leaned over Selina and picked the portable off of the base, "Yes?"

The caller cleared his voice before speaking, "Bruce, it's Tim." There was a strain in his voice that sent a chill down my spine.

"I saw the signal," I replied, "What happened?" Selina sat up slowly, no doubt already sensing the tension in my posture.

"There was an incident at Arkham. Someone sent a gift basket to the security office, food, wine, party hats---."

"Poisoned?" I questioned as I rose from the bed.

He hesitated, "Yes. They opened it around eleven or so, started the celebration early. Eight that consumed food and are in critical condition at Mercy, another ten are dead…" I felt my stomach churn as he continued, "The party hats were tagged with Tetch chips… Thankfully only one of the guards wore them but before he collapsed, he unlocked several cell doors."

"Hatter's?"

"No, actually his door was left locked so he's only an accomplice so far… But six inmates managed to escape their cells. The security officers that had been doing routine night checks caught a number of them, Harvey Dent was in an office looking for a coin to flip, Arnold Wesker was fighting with Socko and Amygdala was in a corner crying about the sound of the alarms. Ivy managed to get out of the building after using her pheromones on a few of the guards but when I arrived I managed to tranquilize her before she got off the grounds."

"You said there were six escapees… Who were the two that got away?"

Another hesitation before, "It appears they have a staff doctor as a hosta---."

"Who are they?!" I demanded. Even before he spoke, I knew what his answer was.

"Bruce… it's the Joker and Harley."

^V^


End file.
